“It is certain.”
“Well,” said his companion musingly, “it may be fancy, but I cannot resist the feeling that this country, and the world generally, are on the eve of a great change—and I do not think the Duke is the man for the epoch.”
“I see no reason why there should be any great change; certainly not in this country,” said Mr. Ferrars. “Here we have changed everything that was required. Peel has settled the criminal law, and Huskisson the currency, and though I am prepared myself still further to reduce the duties on foreign imports, no one can deny that on this subject the Government is in advance of public opinion.”
“The whole affair rests on too contracted a basis,” said his companion. “We are habituated to its exclusiveness, and, no doubt, custom in England is a power; but let some event suddenly occur which makes a nation feel or think, and the whole thing might vanish like a dream.”
“What can happen? Such affairs as the Luddites do not occur twice in a century, and as for Spafields riots, they are impossible now with Peel’s new police. The country is employed and prosperous, and were it not so, the landed interest would always keep things straight.”
“It is powerful, and has been powerful for a long time; but there are other interests besides the landed interest now.”
“Well, there is the colonial interest, and the shipping interest,” said Mr. Ferrars, “and both of them thoroughly with us.”
“I was not thinking of them,” said his companion. “It is the increase of population, and of a population not employed in the cultivation of the soil, and all the consequences of such circumstances that were passing over my mind.”
“Don’t you be too doctrinaire, my dear Sidney; you and I are practical men. We must deal with the existing, the urgent; and there is nothing more pressing at this moment than the formation of a new government. What I want is to see you as a member of it.”
“Ah!” said his companion with a sigh, “do you really think it so near as that?”