Volume Ii Part 16 (2/2)

If you were a parson you could get a living.'

'Ah,' said Wentworth, 'that reminds me of a good story; you recollect Thompson, who edited the _Political Pioneer_?'

'Of course I do.'

'Well, he wrote, as you may remember, very violently and ridiculously in favour of the late Government. He took his articles to the right quarter, and asked for a reward. ”If you were a barrister,” said the Government manager, ”we could give you a berth; if you were a parson, we could give you a living. As it is, I fear we can't help you.” Somehow or other Thompson managed to get ordained, and was given a living in the North, which he has been obliged to leave on account of drunkenness, and he is now back in town working at odds and ends on his old paper.'

'Well,' said Buxton, 'I am not surprised at that. He never was a man for whom I had any respect, but I don't want to see you shelved in that way.

If you want office, of course you must get into Parliament, but I don't think you care much about that sort of thing.'

'No, I should think not.'

'Then, what do you want to get into Parliament for? Think of the hypocrisy of public life. An independent M.P. is a nuisance to all parties, and can do no good. You dislike to hear the cry of the Church in danger, because you know the man who raises it means that he is afraid of losing his t.i.thes. You laugh at the man who talks about preserving our glorious Const.i.tution of Church and State, because you and I well know what he means is the preservation of caste and injustice. But is the Liberal politician much better, who, to keep his party in power, goes ranting about the country in the sacred name of Liberty and Freedom and Progress, and the Rights of Man? Depend upon it, there is little to choose between one set of men and the other. Both are equally selfish, equally thinking of number one, when they are most frantic for their revered leader, as they call him, or most eager to champion the ma.s.ses; their care is the triumph of their party, mostly, too, with an eye to office themselves.'

'Upon my word, I believe I have heard all this before.'

'I believe you have, old boy, and as long as you keep such good company as you are in at the present time I believe you stand an uncommon good chance of hearing it again. There is nothing like line upon line, and precept upon precept. You can speak well, but you won't have a chance of being heard in the House of Commons, where you will be muzzled in order that the officials may have their say. Besides, in the House speeches are mere make-believe. They never influence the voting. All that you can do is to vote black is white in the interests of your party, and is it worth while going into the House for that? Certainly not.'

'Go on,' said Wentworth sarcastically.

'Thank you, I will. Then think of what you have to go through to into the House-the trouble you must take; the time you must waste; the money you must spend; the speeches you must make; the lies you must utter. You will have to tell the voters they are intelligent-you know the ma.s.s of them are nothing of the kind. You must make them believe that, if they do not strain every nerve to get you into Parliament, the sun will refuse to s.h.i.+ne and the earth to yield her fruit. At any rate, if you do not say that, you will have to say something very much like it. You have got to make the voter feel that his vote will do away with the wrongs of ages, when you and I well know that in this land of ours nothing is done in a hurry if it is done well, and that, as Tennyson writes,

'”Freedom broadens slowly down From precedent to precedent.”

The time is coming when the only chance for anyone to get into Parliament will be either that he is a working man and can secure the votes of his cla.s.s, or that he shall be some large employer of labour with a certain number of votes under his thumb, and Parliament will be little better than a parish vestry.'

'Well, we have not come to that yet, and a man may do a great deal of good even in Parliament.'

'Yes, he may, but he can do it better outside. It was an outside organization that carried the repeal of the Corn Laws, that carried reform in Parliament, that repealed the taxes on knowledge, that abolished West Indian slavery.'

'Of course you mean the press.'

'Of course I do, my boy. I repeat daily to myself the words of old Marvell, ”Oh, printing, printing, how hast thou disturbed the peace of mankind! That lead, when moulded into bullets, is not so mortal as when formed into letters. There was a mistake, sure, in the story of Cadmus, and the serpent's teeth which he sowed were nothing but the letters he invented.” Stick to the press, my boy, and don't lower yourself by descending into the Parliamentary arena. It is long since the House of Commons was the best club in London, which conferred on a man _prestige_.

It is now a place where the work is mostly dull, and always hard and unsatisfactory, and the company rather queer. Shall we give up to party what is meant for mankind?” Shall the blessed sun of day prove a Micker and eat blackberries?” Shall we harness Pegasus or Bucephalus to a common dray? Never, my boy, never!'

'I hear you, Buxton, and the worst of it is that what you say is true.'

'I am glad to hear you say so. Come back with me to town. Leave the borough to those who have nursed it. The ox knoweth his owner, and the a.s.s his master's crib. An election is a matter of s. d. It is all very well to talk bunk.u.m on the platform, but the wire-pullers want cash for themselves and to work with. When the ma.s.ses are better educated, they will be proud to return a man like you.'

'Well,' said Wentworth, 'I am of your opinion, and we'll go back to town together.'

The mob, however, was determined not to let Wentworth depart in peace.

They followed him with stones and mud until he found shelter in the station waiting-room.

'Good heavens!' said the station-master. 'Mr. Wentworth, what a state you are in! What have you been up to? Who would have thought of seeing you in such a mess?'

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