Part 50 (1/2)
”No doubt of it; we have two or three of your calibre in Germany this moment,--men liked and respected; and, what is of more consequence, well looked upon at 'the Office.'”
”I don't exactly follow you in that last remark.”
”I scarcely expected you should; and as little can I make it clear to you. Know, however, that in that venerable pile in Downing Street called the Foreign Office, there is a strange, mysterious sentiment,--partly tradition, partly prejudice, partly toadyism,--which bands together all within its walls, from the whiskered porter at the door to the essenced Minister in his bureau, into one intellectual conglomerate, that judges of every man in 'the Line'--as they call diplomacy--with one accord.
By that curious tribunal, which hears no evidence, nor ever utters a sentence, each man's merits are weighed; and to stand well in the Office is better than all the favors of the Court, or the force of great abilities.”
”But I cannot comprehend how mere subordinates, the underlings of official life, can possibly influence the fortunes of men so much above them.”
”Picture to yourself the position of an humble guest at a great man's table; imagine one to whose pretensions the sentiments of the servants'
hall are hostile: he is served to all appearance like the rest of the company; he gets his soup and his fish like those about him, and his wine-gla.s.s is duly replenished,--yet what a series of petty mortifications is he the victim of; how constantly is he made to feel that he is not in public favor; how certain, too, if he incur an awkwardness, to find that his distresses are exposed. The servants'
hall is the Office, my dear Harcourt, and its persecutions are equally polished.”
”Are you a favorite there yourself?” asked the other, slyly.
”A prime favorite; they all like _me!_” said he, throwing himself back in his chair, with an air of easy self-satisfaction; and Harcourt stared at him, curious to know whether so astute a man was the dupe of his own self-esteem, or merely amusing himself with the simplicity of another.
Ah, my good Colonel, give up the problem; it is an enigma far above your powers to solve. That nature is too complex for _your_ elucidation; in its intricate web no one thread holds the clew, but all is complicated, crossed, and entangled.
”Here comes a cabinet messenger again,” said Upton, as a courier's _caleche_ drove up, and a well-dressed and well-looking fellow leaped out.
”Ah, Stanhope, how are you?” said Sir Horace, shaking his hand with what from him was warmth. ”Do you know Colonel Harcourt? Well, Frank, what news do you bring me?”
”The best of news.”
”From F. O., I suppose,” said Upton, sighing.
”Just so. Adderley has told the King you are the only man capable to succeed him. The Press says the same, and the clubs are all with you.”
”Not one of them all, I'd venture to say, has asked whether I have the strength or health for it,” said Sir Horace, with a voice of pathetic intonation.
”Why, as we never knew you want energy for whatever fell to your lot to do, we have the same hope still,” said Stanhope.
”So say I too,” cried Harcourt. ”Like many a good hunter, he 'll do his work best when he is properly weighted.”
”It is quite refres.h.i.+ng to listen to you both--creatures with crocodile digestion--talk to a man who suffers nightmare if he over-eat a dry biscuit at supper. I tell you frankly, it would be the death of me to take the Foreign Office. I 'd not live through the season,--the very dinners would kill me; and then, the House, the heat, the turmoil, the worry of opposition, and the jaunting back and forward to Brighton or to Windsor!”
While he muttered these complaints, he continued to read with great rapidity the letters which Stanhope had brought him, and which, despite all his practised coolness, had evidently afforded him pleasure in the perusal.
”Adderley bore it,” continued he, ”just because he was a mere machine, wound up to play off so many despatches, like so many tunes; and then, he permitted a degree of interference on the King's part I never could have suffered; and he liked to be addressed by the King of Prussia as 'Dear Adderley.' But what do I care for all these vanities? Have I not seen enough of the thing they call the great world? Is not this retreat better and dearer to me than all the glare and crash of London, or all the pomp and splendor of Windsor?”
”By Jove! I suspect you are right, after all,” said Harcourt, with an honest energy of voice.
”Were I younger, and stronger in health, perhaps,” said Upton, ”this might have tempted me. Perhaps I can picture to myself what I might have made of it; for you may perceive, George, these people have done nothing: they have been pouring hot water on the tea-leaves Pitt left them,--no more.”
”And you 'd have a brewing of your own, I 've no doubt,” responded the other.
”I'd at least have foreseen the time when this compact, this Holy Alliance, should become impossible; when the developed intelligence of Europe would seek something else from their rulers than a well-concocted scheme of repression. I 'd have provided for the hour when England must either break with her own people or her allies; and I 'd have inaugurated a new policy, based upon the enlarged views and extended intelligence of mankind.”
”I 'm not certain that I quite apprehend you,” muttered Harcourt.