his purse, are considered to be fitly rewarded by a sojourn in the oakum-yard or on the treadmill.
All these petty degradations are but the interludes of the play which the candidate is required to go through. He is to utter whatever may be the shibboleth of the hour. Instead of a candid examination of public affairs, he must deal with every subject in such a manner as to suit the prepossessions of his hearers. Bare are the cases, and eminent must be the man, who dares to appear as he is, and speak as he thinks on public questions, before those whom he addresses, and hopes to enlist in his support. Perhaps scarcely any young politician, at the entrance of his career, could venture upon such candour;—supposing, of course, a time in which nomination boroughs do not exist. He must be initiated into political life by a discipline in deception. He must often, to please some men, approve of—or, at least, countenance—bigotry; and if he does not positively encourage, he is obliged to wink at, corruption, intemperance, and deceit; or shut his eyes to what he knows is taking place. In addition to this, he may be driven to competition in promises which he is aware cannot be performed. The whole process is demoralising, and tends to exclude some of the best men, and the most scrupulous and trustworthy order of minds. "Happy is he who holds that, for a public man, the first condition of capacity to serve his country is an unsuited conscience, and who, when he sees national advantages seemingly contingent upon his own moral contamination, trusts that God will raise up instruments to secure for his country all necessary goods of earth, and refuses to sell wisdom though it be for rubies."[1]
The liberation of individual electors from a compulsory union with others would enable a candidate to discard all mean and dishonest compliances, and frankly to express his sentiments, whatever they may be, relying with confidence that the kingdom contains electors enough who agree and
- ↑ Gladstone, The State, &c., vol. i., p. 127.
