“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 constituents,—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 constituency is, in my estimation, the
highest object of an Englishman’s ambition.”
“But why commercial, Mr. Turnbull?” said
Mr. Kennedy.
“Because the commercial constituencies 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 assurance. 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.
Lord Chiltern Rides His Horse Bonebreaker
It was known that whatever might be the details of
Mr. Mildmay’s bill, the ballot would not form
a part of it; and as there was a strong party in the
House of Commons, and a very numerous party out of
it, who were desirous that voting by ballot should
be made a part of the electoral law, it was decided
that an independent motion should be brought on in
anticipation of Mr. Mildmay’s bill. The
arrangement was probably one of Mr. Mildmay’s
own making; so that he might be hampered by no opposition
on that subject by his own followers if,—as
he did not doubt,—the motion should be lost.
It was expected that the debate would not last over
one night, and Phineas resolved that he would make
his maiden speech on this occasion. He had very
strong opinions as to the inefficacy of the ballot
for any good purposes, and thought that he might be
able to strike out from his convictions some sparks
of that fire which used to be so plentiful with him
at the old debating clubs. But even at breakfast
that morning his heart began to beat quickly at the
idea of having to stand on his legs before so critical
an audience.
