Part 24 (2/2)
”That is a question which a man may hardly answer himself,” said Mr.
Monk.
”It is a question which a man should at least answer for himself before he consents to sit there,” said Mr. Turnbull, in a tone of voice which was almost angry.
”And what reason have you for supposing that I have omitted that duty?” said Mr. Monk.
”Simply this,--that I cannot reconcile your known opinions with the practices of your colleagues.”
”I will not tell you what my convictions may be worth in Mr.
Mildmay's Cabinet. I will not take upon myself to say that they are worth the chair on which I sit when I am there. But I will tell you what my aspirations were when I consented to fill that chair, and you shall judge of their worth. I thought that they might possibly leaven the batch of bread which we have to bake,--giving to the whole batch more of the flavour of reform than it would have possessed had I absented myself. I thought that when I was asked to join Mr. Mildmay and Mr. Gresham, the very fact of that request indicated liberal progress, and that if I refused the request I should be declining to a.s.sist in good work.”
”You could have supported them, if anything were proposed worthy of support,” said Mr. Turnbull.
”Yes; but I could not have been so effective in taking care that some measure be proposed worthy of support as I may possibly be now.
I thought a good deal about it, and I believe that my decision was right.”
”I am sure you were right,” said Mr. Kennedy.
”There can be no juster object of ambition than a seat in the Cabinet,” said Phineas.
”Sir, I must dispute that,” said Mr. Turnbull, turning round upon our hero. ”I regard the position of our high Ministers as most respectable.”
”Thank you for so much,” said Mr. Monk. But the orator went on again, regardless of the interruption:--
”The position of gentlemen in inferior offices,--of gentlemen who attend rather to the nods and winks of their superiors in Downing Street than to the interest of their const.i.tuents,--I do not regard as being highly respectable.”
”A man cannot begin at the top,” said Phineas.
”Our friend Mr. Monk has begun at what you are pleased to call the top,” said Mr. Turnbull. ”But I will not profess to think that even he has raised himself by going into office. To be an independent representative of a really popular commercial const.i.tuency is, in my estimation, the highest object of an Englishman's ambition.”
”But why commercial, Mr. Turnbull?” said Mr. Kennedy.
”Because the commercial const.i.tuencies really do elect their own members in accordance with their own judgments, whereas the counties and the small towns are coerced either by individuals or by a combination of aristocratic influences.”
”And yet,” said Mr. Kennedy, ”there are not half a dozen Conservatives returned by all the counties in Scotland.”
”Scotland is very much to be honoured,” said Mr. Turnbull.
Mr. Kennedy was the first to take his departure, and Mr. Turnbull followed him very quickly. Phineas got up to go at the same time, but stayed at his host's request, and sat for awhile smoking a cigar.
”Turnbull is a wonderful man,” said Mr. Monk.
”Does he not domineer too much?”
”His fault is not arrogance, so much as ignorance that there is, or should be, a difference between public and private life. In the House of Commons a man in Mr. Turnbull's position must speak with dictatorial a.s.surance. He is always addressing, not the House only, but the country at large, and the country will not believe in him unless he believe in himself. But he forgets that he is not always addressing the country at large. I wonder what sort of a time Mrs.
Turnbull and the little Turnbulls have of it?”
Phineas, as he went home, made up his mind that Mrs. Turnbull and the little Turnbulls must probably have a bad time of it.
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