‘Of course I do, my boy. I repeat daily to myself the words of old Marvell, “Oh, printing, printing, how hast thou disturbed the peace of mankind! That lead, when moulded into bullets, is not so mortal as when formed into letters. There was a mistake, sure, in the story of Cadmus, and the serpent’s teeth which he sowed were nothing but the letters he invented.” Stick to the press, my boy, and don’t lower yourself by descending into the Parliamentary arena. It is long since the House of Commons was the best club in London, which conferred on a man prestige. It is now a place where the work is mostly dull, and always hard and unsatisfactory, and the company rather queer. Shall we give up to party what is meant for mankind?” Shall the blessed sun of day prove a Micker and eat blackberries?” Shall we harness Pegasus or Bucephalus to a common dray? Never, my boy, never!’
‘I hear you, Buxton, and the worst of it is that what you say is true.’
‘I am glad to hear you say so. Come back with me to town. Leave the borough to those who have nursed it. The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master’s crib. An election is a matter of £ s. d. It is all very well to talk bunkum on the platform, but the wire-pullers want cash for themselves and to work with. When the masses are better educated, they will be proud to return a man like you.’
‘Well,’ said Wentworth, ‘I am of your opinion, and we’ll go back to town together.’
The mob, however, was determined not to let Wentworth depart in peace. They followed him with stones and mud until he found shelter in the station waiting-room.
‘Good heavens!’ said the station-master. ‘Mr. Wentworth, what a state you are in! What have you been up to? Who would have thought of seeing you in such a mess?’
‘Ah, Mr. Johnson, you remember me!’
‘I should think so, sir. We all missed you when you left Bethesda Chapel. But what have you been doing?’
‘Only speaking the truth to the free and independent electors of this enlightened borough.’
‘You mean casting pearls before swine.’