to the bishop.

"Are they, indeed!" said the bishop, opening his eyes wide, and
assuming a look of intense interest.

"And the most intelligent people."

"Dear me!" said the bishop.

"All they want is guidance, encouragement, instruction--"

"And Christianity," suggested the bishop.

"And Christianity, of course," said Mr. Smith, remembering that he
was speaking to a dignitary of the Church. It was well to humour such
people, Mr. Smith thought. But the Christianity was to be done in the
Sunday sermon, and was not part of his work.

"And how do you intend to begin with them?" asked Mr. Supplehouse,
the business of whose life it had been to suggest difficulties.

"Begin with them--oh--why--it's very easy to begin with them. The
difficulty is to go on with them, after the money is all spent. We'll
begin by explaining to them the benefits of civilization."

"Capital plan!" said Mr. Supplehouse. "But how do you set about it,
Smith?"

"How do we set about it? How did we set about it with Australia and
America? It is very easy to criticize; but in such matters the great
thing is to put one's shoulder to the wheel."

"We sent our felons to Australia," said Supplehouse, "and they began
the work for us. And as to America, we exterminated the people
instead of civilizing them."

"We did not exterminate the inhabitants of India," said Harold Smith,
angrily.

"Nor have we attempted to Christianize them, as the bishop so
properly wishes to do with your islanders."

"Supplehouse, you are not fair," said Mr. Sowerby, "neither to Harold
Smith nor to us;--you are making him rehearse his lecture, which is
bad for him; and making us hear the rehearsal, which is bad for us."

"Supplehouse belongs to a clique which monopolizes the wisdom of
England," said Harold Smith, "or, at any rate, thinks that it
does. But the worst of them is that they are given to talk leading
articles."

"Better that, than talk articles which are not leading," said Mr.
Supplehouse. "Some first-class official men do that."

"Shall I meet you at the duke's next week, Mr. Robarts?" said the
bishop to him, soon after they had gone into the drawing-room. Meet
him at the duke's!--the established enemy of Barsetshire mankind, as
Lady Lufton regarded his grace! No idea of going to the duke's had
ever entered our hero's mind; nor had he been aware that the duke was
about to entertain any one.

"No, my lord; I think not. Indeed, I have no acquaintance