n the subject which the Minister had in
hand, and when he sat down, Mr Palliser would not get up, though Mr
Bott counselled him to do so. The matter was over for the night,
and the time had arrived for Lord Middlesex. That nobleman got upon
his feet, with a roll of papers in his hand, and was proceeding to
address the House on certain matters of church reform, with great
energy; but, alas, for him and for his feelings! before his energy
had got itself into full swing, the Members were swarming away
through the doors like a flock of sheep. Mr Palliser got up and went,
and was followed at once by Mr Bott, who succeeded in getting hold
of his arm in the lobby. Had not Mr Palliser been an even-tempered,
calculating man, with a mind and spirit well under his command, he
must have learned to hate Mr Bott before this time. Away streamed the
Members, but still the noble lord went on speaking, struggling hard
to keep up his fire as though no such exodus were in process. There
was but little to console him. He knew that the papers would not
report one sentence in twenty of those he uttered. He knew that no
one would listen to him willingly. He knew that he had worked for
weeks and months to get up his facts, and he was beginning to know
that he had worked in vain. As he summoned courage to look round, he
began to fear that some enemy would count the House, and that all
would be over. He had given heart and soul to this affair. His cry
was not as Vavasor's cry about the River Bank. He believed in his own
subject with a great faith, thinking that he could make men happier
and better, and bring them nearer to their God. I said that he had
worked for weeks and months. I might have said that he had been all
his life at this work. Though he shuffled with his feet when he
walked, and knocked his words together when he talked, he was an
earnest man, meaning to do well, seeking no other reward for his
work than the appreciation of those whom he desired to serve. But
this was never to be his. For him there was in store nothing but
disappointment. And yet he will work on to the end, either in this
House or in the other, labouring wearily, without visible wages of
any kind, and, one may say, very sadly. But when he has been taken to
his long rest, men will acknowledge that he has done something, and
there will be left on the minds of those who shall remember him a
conviction that he served a good cause diligently, and not altogether
ineffici