But--you'll pardon my mentioning it--you began this discussion by asking me whether the Almighty had common sense." "Well, has He or not ?" "Of course," said Wilson.
"Then we're going to win this election," said Paul.
If he could have met enthusiasm with enthusiasm, all would have been well.

The awakener of England could have captivated hearts by glowing pictures of a great and glorious future.

It would have been a counter-blaze to that lit by his opponent, which flamed in all the effulgence of a reckless reformer's promise, revealing a Utopia in which there would be no drunkenness, no crime, no poverty, and in which the rich, apparently, would have to work very hard in order to support the poor in comfortable idleness.

But beyond proving fallacies, Paul could do nothing--and even then, has there ever been a mob since the world began susceptible to logical argument?
So, all through the wintry days of the campaign, Silas Finn carried his fiery cross through the constituency, winning frenzied adherents, while Paul found it hard to rally the faithful round the drooping standard of St.George.
The days went on.

Paul addressed his last meeting on the eve of the poll.