CHAPTER V.

Audley Egerton stands on his hearth alone. During the short interval
that has elapsed since we last saw him, events had occurred memorable in
English history, wherewith we have nought to do in a narrative studiously
avoiding all party politics even when treating of politicians. The new
ministers had stated the general programme of their policy, and
introduced one measure in especial that had lifted them at once to the
dizzy height of popular power. But it became clear that this measure
could not be carried without a fresh appeal to the people. A dissolution
of parliament, as Audley's sagacious experience had foreseen, was
inevitable. And Audley Egerton had no chance of return for his own seat,
for the great commercial city identified with his name. Oh, sad, but not
rare, instance of the mutabilities of that same popular favour now
enjoyed by his successors! The great commoner, the weighty speaker, the
expert man of business, the statesman who had seemed a type of the
practical steady sense for which our middle class is renowned,--he who,
not three years since, might have had his honoured choice of the largest
popular constituencies in the kingdom,--he, Audley Egerton, knew not one
single town (free from the influences of private property or interest) in
which the obscurest candidate, who bawled out for the new liberal
measure, would not have beaten him hollow. Where one popular hustings,
on which that grave sonorous voice, that had stilled so often the roar of
faction, would not be drowned amidst the hoots of the scornful mob?

True, what were called the close boroughs still existed; true, many a
chief of his party would have been too proud of the honour of claiming