And so finishing his speech, Sir Roger retired within, and recruited himself in the usual manner.

Such was the flood of eloquence at the Dragon of Wantly.  At the White Horse, meanwhile, the friends of the De Courcy interest were treated perhaps to sounder political views; though not expressed in periods so intelligibly fluent as those of Sir Roger.

Mr Moffat was a young man, and there was no knowing to what proficiency in the Parliamentary gift of public talking he might yet attain; but hitherto his proficiency was not great.  He had, however, endeavoured to make up by study for any want of readiness of speech, and had come to Barchester daily, for the last four days, fortified with a very pretty harangue, which he had prepared for himself in the solitude of his chamber.  On the three previous days matters had been allowed to progress with tolerable smoothness, and he had been permitted to deliver himself of his elaborate eloquence with few other interruptions than those occasioned by his own want of practice.  But on this, the day of days, the Barchesterian roughs were not so complaisant.  It appeared to Mr Moffat, when he essayed to speak, that he was surrounded by enemies rather than friends; and in his heart he gave great blame to Mr Nearthewinde for not managing matters better for him.

‘Men of Barchester,’ he began, in a voice which was every now and then preternaturally loud, but which, at each fourth or fifth word, gave way from want of power, and descended to its natural weak tone.  ’Men of Barchester—­electors and non-electors—­’

‘We is hall electors; hall on us, my young kiddy.’

’Electors and non-electors, I now ask your suffrages, not for the first time—­’

’Oh! we’ve tried you.  We know what you’re made on.  Go on, Snip; don’t you let ’em put you down.’

’I’ve had the honour of representing you in Parliament for the last two years and—­’

‘And a deuced deal you did for us, didn’t you?’

’What could you expect from the ninth part of a man?  Never mind, Snip—­go on; don’t you be out by any of them.  Stick to your wax and thread like a man—­like the ninth part of a man—­go on a little faster, Snip.’

‘For the last two years—­and—­and—­’ Here Mr Moffat looked round to his friends for some little support, and the Honourable George, who stood close behind him, suggested that he had gone through it like a brick.

‘And—­and I went through it like a brick,’ said Mr Moffat, with the gravest possible face, taking up in his utter confusion the words that were put into his mouth.

’Hurray!—­so you did—­you’re the real brick.  Well done, Snip; go it again with the wax and thread!’

‘I am a thorough-paced reformer,’ continued Mr Moffat, somewhat reassured by the effect of the opportune words which his friend had whispered into his ear.  ’A thorough-paced reformer—­a thorough-paced reformer—­’