"There is a debt upon my chapel," I
echoed, gloomily, and the load which had
fallen from me seemed the heavier now it
was he, the curate, who recalled it to my
remembrance.

"A debt of four hundred pounds," he
said.

I could not repeat the mournful words
after him, so I mutely bowed my head.

"It must be a serious obstacle to your
usefulness," he remarked, meditatively.

"It is," I cried; "it is a blight both
upon my usefulness and happiness."

There was a second pause, with a fine
anxiety in it for us all.

"What would you say to a friend,"
breathed one of the three voices, I scarcely
knew which, "a Conservative friend, who
would pay off the debt upon the chapel?"

My heart gave a great bound, but sank
again like lead.

"It could not be, gentlemen," I answered,
"it could never be. We are all Liberals
to the backbone; and incorruptible voters.

"How many votes did you tell me?"
asked the stranger.

"Forty," answered the agent; "forty
votes and four hundred pounds debt; a
simple and beautiful arithmetical proportion."

"Think about it; think about it, my
dear friend," said the curate, shaking my
hand warmly, "don't give us your answer
now. At any rate consult your elders, or
deacons, or leaders. The question is fairly
theirs; not yours. Do not be in a hurry.
The evening before the polling day will do
for your decision."

I watched them going away as if in a
dream, and then I turned to my sermon
again, but it was impossible to get on. On
one hand were arrayed all my cherished
political principles; on the other the chapel
debt paid, and my Mary, with her fortune
of one thousand pounds, my wife. But I
firmly resolved to sacrifice everything to
my principles; and as the first step
towards doing so I took my hat, and walked
off as quickly as I could to tell Mary what
had happened.

I found her in the roomy, pleasant kitchen
of their well-plenished house, where the
abundance of everything used to bring to
my mind the line of a hymn, "Enough for
all, enough for each." Mary was making
cakes for tea, and her hands were covered
with flour; but that did not materially
interfere with our greeting. Resuming with
an effort my air of gloomy resolve, I told
her my story in brief words.

"Oh Sam!" she exclaimed, clapping her
hands, and thereby producing a fine white
cloud in which she partially disappeared,
"how nice, how very good of them!"

"But, my dear love," I remonstrated,
"it will do us no good. I could not possibly
consent. It is a vile case of bribery
and corruption; and we can have nothing
to do with corruption."

"That's a very disagreeable, unpleasant
word," said Mary, pouting; "and you don't
mean to say you refused such a noble
offer!"

"What else could I do, with my
principles?" I asked.

"Then now I am positive you don't love
me," she cried, bursting into sobs and
tears; "I thought you were changed before,
and didn't care any longer about the debt;
and now I am sure of it. Perhaps you
never did love me!"

"Don't I love you, my darling? don't
I?" I said, employing every art of soothing
at my command, and when she was again
calm, I told her more in detail the narrative
of my visitors' interview with me.

"Then, after all, it does not rest with
you," she said; "you have only to tell it
to the church, Sam; and you can call a
meeting after service to-night."

We took tea together with the family,
and afterwards walked down to the chapel.
Upon the gate-posts were pasted some flaming
Liberal placards, which seemed to stab
me. I did not know how it was all to end.
Mary's hand was pressing my arm
affectionately: but was it possible that I could
ever be brought to use my influence in the
cause of Conservatism? I might have
been preaching on my head, for all I knew;
but I suppose I conducted myself as usual,
for those who were accustomed to go to
sleep went to sleep, and the rest listened
with a painstaking air. I announced a
church meeting at the close of the service,
especially requesting the male members to
remain, and I observed that not one of the
female ones quitted the chapel.

I came down from the pulpit and seated
myself at the end of a bench, asking Mary's
father to take the chair, as the business of
the meeting was purely secular. I then
laid the matter before them simply, as
voters for the borough of Much Coalmoor;
and such a buzz of comment and discussion
arose as I had never heard within those
four ugly walls.

"This here is a weighty question," spoke
up Brother Pincher, who kept a general
provision shop, and was considered one of