Chapter XXVII
“High Toryism, High Churchism, High Farming, and old port forever!”
—CORLETT.
HAT evening, when I came to meditate in solitude upon the appeal I purposed to make, my confidence began to evaporate in the most uncomfortable manner. Was I quite certain that I should be pleading a righteous cause? Ah, yes; I had gone too far now to question my cause; but how would my eloquence be received? Would it “fetch if properly managed”? I tried to picture the baronet, and the more my fancy laid on the colors, the more damping the prospect became.