ho had in their hands the interests of the country, and faithfully
discharged their duties. And then I stood up, and putting forth my hand
in imitation of Pitt's statue in the corridor of the House of Commons, I
said, "Justice is Divine, not Human; and you cannot detract from anything
that is Divine, any more than you can lessen the brilliancy of the sun.
You may obscure its splendour to mortal eyes, but its effulgence is the
same. Man may so ostensibly assert his own dignity, or the dignity of a
perishable system, that it may temporarily veil the beauty of a Divine
attribute; but Justice must still remain the untarnished glory of Divine
wisdom. It is not the pomp of position or the majesty of office that
imparts dignity to Justice."

Here, exhausted with my effort, and with my wife's applause ringing in my
ears, I fell asleep again, and dreamed that I saw Bumpkin sadly wandering
about the old farm; his faithful wife following, and never for one moment
ceasing to cheer him up. It was a fine bright morning in October as they
wandered forth. There wasn't a living thing about the farm except the
birds, and even they seemed sad in their twittering. Could it be
possible that they knew of poor Bumpkin's miserable condition?

There was an old jackdaw that certainly did; for he hopped and hopped
along after the master with the saddest expression I ever saw bird wear.
But the master took no notice. On and on he wandered, seemingly
unconscious of the presence even of his wife.

"Tom!" she said, "Tom, where beest thee gwine?"

Bumpkin started; turned round, and said:

"Nancy! what, be it thee, lassie?"

"Ay, Tom, sure enough it be I. Let's cheer up, Tom. If the worst come
to the worst--we can but goo to Union."

"The wust have come to th' wust, Nancy; we be ruined! Look at this 'ere
farm--all be bare--all be lost, Nancy. Hark how silent it all be!"

"Never mind, Tom; never mind. I wish Joe wur here."

"Ah! Joe, yes. I wonder where Joe be; praps he be out here in th' six
akre."

"No, no, Tom, he be gwine for a sojer; but I've a mind he'll come back.
And who knows, we may be 'appy yet! We've worked hard, Tom, together
these five-and-thirty year, and sure we can trudge on t' th' end. Come,
let's goo in and ave some breakfast."

But Tom kept on walking and looking round the fields after his old
manner.

"I think we'll ave wuts here," said he.

"So ur will, Tom, but let's have breakfast fust. Come, lad."