CHAPTER XLV.
George Vavasor Takes His Seat.
George Vavasor's feeling of triumph was not unjustifiable. It issomething to have sat in the House of Commons, though it has been butfor one session! There is on the left-hand side of our great nationalhall,--on the left-hand side as one enters it, and opposite to thedoors leading to the Law Courts,--a pair of gilded lamps, with a doorbetween them, near to which a privileged old dame sells her applesand her oranges solely, as I presume, for the accommodation of theMembers of the House and of the great policeman who guards the pass.Between those lamps is the entrance to the House of Commons, and nonebut Members may go that way! It is the only gate before which I haveever stood filled with envy,--sorrowing to think that my steps mightnever pass under it. There are many portals forbidden to me, as thereare many forbidden to all men; and forbidden fruit, they say, issweet; but my lips have watered after no other fruit but that whichgrows so high, within the sweep of that great policeman's truncheon.
Ah, my male friend and reader, who earnest thy bread, perhaps, as acountry vicar; or sittest, may-be, at some weary desk in SomersetHouse; or who, perhaps, rulest the yard behind the Cheapside counter,hast thou never stood there and longed,--hast thou never confessed,when standing there, that Fate has been unkind to thee in denyingthee the one thing that thou hast wanted? I have done so; and as myslow steps have led me up that more than royal staircase, to thosepassages and halls which require the hallowing breath of centuries togive them the glory in British eyes which they shall one day possess,I have told myself, in anger and in grief, that to die and not tohave won that right of way, though but for a session,--not to havepassed by the narrow entrance through those lamps,--is to die andnot to have done that which it most becomes an Englishman to haveachieved.
There are, doubtless, some who come out by that road, the loss ofwhose society is not to be regretted. England does not choose her sixhundred and fifty-four best men. One comforts one's self, sometimes,with remembering that. The George Vavasors, the Calder Joneses, andthe Botts are admitted. Dishonesty, ignorance, and vulgarity donot close the gate of that heaven against aspirants; and it is aconsolation to the ambition of the poor to know that the ambition ofthe rich can attain that glory by the strength of its riches alone.But though England does not send thither none but her best men, thebest of her Commoners do find their way there. It is the highestand most legitimate pride of an Englishman to have the lettersM.P. written after his name. No selection from the alphabet, nodoctorship, no fellowship, be it of ever so learned or royal asociety, no knightship,--not though it be of the Garter,--confers sofair an honour. Mr. Bott was right when he declared that this countryis governed from between the walls of that House, though the truthwas almost defiled by the lips which uttered it. He might have addedthat from thence flow the waters of the world's progress,--thefullest fountain of advancing civilization.
George Vavasor, as he went in by the lamps and the apple-stall, underthe guardianship of Mr. Bott, felt all the pride of which I have beenspeaking. He was a man quite capable of feeling such pride as itshould be felt,--capable, in certain dreamy moments, of looking atthe thing with pure and almost noble eyes; of understanding theambition of serving with truth so great a nation as that which fatehad made his own. Nature, I think, had so fashioned George Vavasor,that he might have been a good, and perhaps a great man; whereas Mr.Bott had been born small. Vavasor had educated himself to badnesswith his eyes open. He had known what was wrong, and had done it,having taught himself to think that bad things were best. But poorMr. Bott had meant to do well, and thought that he had done very wellindeed. He was a tuft-hunter and a toady, but he did not know that hewas doing amiss in seeking to rise by tuft-hunting and toadying. Hewas both mean and vain, both a bully and a coward, and in politics,I fear, quite unscrupulous in spite of his grand dogmas; but hebelieved that he was progressing in public life by the proper andusual means, and was troubled by no idea that he did wrong.
Vavasor, in those dreamy moments of which I have spoken, wouldsometimes feel tempted to cut his throat and put an end to himself,because he knew that he had taught himself amiss. Again he wouldsadly ask himself whether it was yet too late; always, however,answering himself that it was too late. Even now, at this moment,as he went in between the lamps, and felt much of the honest prideof which I have spoken, he told himself that it was too late. Whatcould he do now, hampered by such a debt as that which he owed to hiscousin, and with the knowledge that it must be almost indefinitelyincreased, unless he meant to give up this seat in Parliament, whichhad cost him so dearly, almost before he had begun to enjoy it? Buthis courage was good, and he was able to resolve that he would go onwith the business that he had in hand, and play out his game to theend. He had achieved his seat in the House of Commons, and was sofar successful. Men who had ever been gracious to him were now moregracious than ever, and they who had not hitherto treated him withcourtesy, now began to smile and to be very civil. It was, no doubt,a great thing to have the privilege of that entrance between thelamps.
Mr. Bott had the new Member now in hand, not because there had beenany old friendship between them, but Mr. Bott was on the look-out forfollowers, and Vavasor was on the look-out for a party. A man getsno great thanks for attaching himself to existing power. Our friendmight have enrolled himself among the general supporters of theGovernment without attracting much attention. He would in such casehave been at the bottom of a long list. But Mr. Palliser was a risingman, round whom, almost without wish of his own, a party was formingitself. If he came into power,--as come he must, according to Mr. Bottand many others,--then they who had acknowledged the new light beforeits brightness had been declared, might expect their reward.
Vavasor, as he passed through the lobby to the door of the House,leaning on Mr. Bott's arm, was very silent. He had spoken but littlesince they had left their cab in Palace Yard, and was not very wellpleased by the garrulity of his companion. He was going to sit amongthe first men of his nation, and to take his chance of making himselfone of them. He believed in his own ability; he believed thoroughlyin his own courage; but he did not believe in his own conduct. Hefeared that he had done,--feared still more strongly that he wouldbe driven to do,--that which would shut men's ears against his words,and would banish him from high places. No man believes in himself whoknows himself to be a rascal, however great may be his talent, orhowever high his pluck.
"Of course you have heard a debate?" said Mr. Bott.
"Yes," answered Vavasor, who wished to remain silent.
"Many, probably?"
"No."
"But you have heard debates from the gallery. Now you'll hear themfrom the body of the House, and you'll find how very different it is.There's no man can know what Parliament is who has never had a seat.Indeed no one can thoroughly understand the British Constitutionwithout it. I felt, very early in life, that that should be my line;and though it's hard work and no pay, I mean to stick to it. Howdo, Thompson? You know Vavasor? He's just returned for the ChelseaDistricts, and I'm taking him up. We shan't divide to-night; shallwe? Look! there's Farringcourt just coming out; he's listened tobetter than any man in the House now, but he'll borrow half-a-crownfrom you if you'll lend him one. How d'ye do, my lord? I hope I havethe pleasure of seeing you well?" and Bott bowed low to a lord whowas hurrying through the lobby as fast as his shuffling feet wouldcarry him. "Of course you know him?"
Vavasor, however, did not know the lord in question, and was obligedto say so.
"I thought you were up to all these things?" said Bott.
"Taking the peerage generally, I am not up to it," said Vavasor, witha curl on his lip.
"But you ought to have known him. That was Viscount Middlesex; he hasgot something on to-night about the Irish Church. His father is pastninety, and he's over sixty. We'll go in now; but let me give you onebit of advice, my dear fellow--don't think of speaking this session.A Member can do no good at that work till he has learned something ofthe forms of the House.
The forms of the House are everything; uponmy word they are. This is Mr. Vavasor, the new Member for the ChelseaDistricts."
Our friend was thus introduced to the doorkeeper, who smiledfamiliarly, and seemed to wink his eye. Then George Vavasor passedthrough into the House itself, under the wing of Mr. Bott.
Vavasor, as he walked up the House to the Clerk's table and took theoath and then walked down again, felt himself to be almost takenaback by the little notice which was accorded to him. It was not thathe had expected to create a sensation, or that he had for a momentthought on the subject, but the thing which he was doing was sogreat to him, that the total indifference of those around him wasa surprise to him. After he had taken his seat, a few men came upby degrees and shook hands with him; but it seemed, as they did so,merely because they were passing that way. He was anxious not tosit next to Mr. Bott, but he found himself unable to avoid thiscontiguity. That gentleman stuck to him pertinaciously, giving himdirections which, at the spur of the moment, he hardly knew how notto obey. So he found himself sitting behind Mr. Palliser, a little tothe right, while Mr. Bott occupied the ear of the rising man.
There was a debate in progress, but it seemed to Vavasor, as soonas he was able to become critical, to be but a dull affair, and yetthe Chancellor of the Exchequer was on his legs, and Mr. Palliserwas watching him as a cat watches a mouse. The speaker was full offigures, as becomes a Chancellor of the Exchequer; and as every newbudget of them fell from him, Mr. Bott, with audible whispers, pouredinto the ear of his chief certain calculations of his own, most ofwhich went to prove that the financier in office was altogetherwrong. Vavasor thought that he could see that Mr. Palliser wasreceiving more of his assistance than was palatable to him. He wouldlisten, if he did listen, without making any sign that he heard, andwould occasionally shake his head with symptoms of impatience. ButMr. Bott was a man not to be repressed by a trifle. When Mr. Pallisershook his head he became more assiduous than ever, and when Mr.Palliser slightly moved himself to the left, he boldly followed him.
No general debate arose on the subject which the Minister had inhand, and when he sat down, Mr. Palliser would not get up, thoughMr. Bott counselled him to do so. The matter was over for the night,and the time had arrived for Lord Middlesex. That nobleman got uponhis feet, with a roll of papers in his hand, and was proceeding toaddress the House on certain matters of church reform, with greatenergy; but, alas, for him and for his feelings! before his energyhad got itself into full swing, the Members were swarming awaythrough the doors like a flock of sheep. Mr. Palliser got up and went,and was followed at once by Mr. Bott, who succeeded in getting holdof his arm in the lobby. Had not Mr. Palliser been an even-tempered,calculating man, with a mind and spirit well under his command, hemust have learned to hate Mr. Bott before this time. Away streamed theMembers, but still the noble lord went on speaking, struggling hardto keep up his fire as though no such exodus were in process. Therewas but little to console him. He knew that the papers would notreport one sentence in twenty of those he uttered. He knew that noone would listen to him willingly. He knew that he had worked forweeks and months to get up his facts, and he was beginning to knowthat he had worked in vain. As he summoned courage to look round, hebegan to fear that some enemy would count the House, and that allwould be over. He had given heart and soul to this affair. His crywas not as Vavasor's cry about the River Bank. He believed in his ownsubject with a great faith, thinking that he could make men happierand better, and bring them nearer to their God. I said that he hadworked for weeks and months. I might have said that he had been allhis life at this work. Though he shuffled with his feet when hewalked, and knocked his words together when he talked, he was anearnest man, meaning to do well, seeking no other reward for hiswork than the appreciation of those whom he desired to serve. Butthis was never to be his. For him there was in store nothing butdisappointment. And yet he will work on to the end, either in thisHouse or in the other, labouring wearily, without visible wages ofany kind, and, one may say, very sadly. But when he has been taken tohis long rest, men will acknowledge that he has done something, andthere will be left on the minds of those who shall remember him aconviction that he served a good cause diligently, and not altogetherinefficiently. Invisible are his wages, yet in some coin are theypaid. Invisible is the thing he does, and yet it is done. Let us hopethat some sense of this tardy appreciation may soothe his spiritbeyond the grave. On the present occasion there was nothing to soothehis spirit. The Speaker sat, urbane and courteous, with his eyesturned towards the unfortunate orator; but no other ears in the Houseseemed to listen to him. The corps of reporters had dwindled down totwo, and they used their pens very listlessly, taking down here asentence and there a sentence, knowing that their work was naught.Vavasor sat it out to the last, as it taught him a lesson in thoseforms of the House which Mr. Bott had truly told him it would bewell that he should learn. And at last he did learn the form of a"count-out." Some one from a back seat muttered something, which theSpeaker understood; and that high officer, having had his attentioncalled to a fact of which he would never have taken cognizancewithout such calling, did count the House, and finding that itcontained but twenty-three Members, he put an end to his own laboursand to those of poor Lord Middlesex. With what feelings that noblelord must have taken himself home, and sat himself down in his study,vainly opening a book before his eyes, can we not all imagine? A manhe was with ample means, with children who would do honour to hisname; one whose wife believed in him, if no one else would do so; aman, let us say, with a clear conscience, to whom all good things hadbeen given. But of whom now was he thinking with envy? Early on thatsame day Farringcourt had spoken in the House,--a man to whom no onewould lend a shilling, whom the privilege of that House kept out ofgaol, whose word no man believed; who was wifeless, childless, andunloved. But three hundred men had hung listening upon his words.When he laughed in his speech, they laughed; when he was indignantagainst the Minister, they sat breathless, as the Spaniard sits inthe critical moment of the bull-killing. Whichever way he turnedhimself, he carried them with him. Crowds of Members flocked into theHouse from libraries and smoking-rooms when it was known that thisne'er-do-well was on his legs. The Strangers' Gallery was filled tooverflowing. The reporters turned their rapid pages, working theirfingers wearily till the sweat drops stood upon their brows. Andas the Premier was attacked with some special impetus of redoubledirony, men declared that he would be driven to enrol the speakeramong his colleagues, in spite of dishonoured bills and evil reports.A man who could shake the thunderbolts like that must be paid toshake them on the right side. It was of this man, and of his success,that Lord Middlesex was envious, as he sat, wretched and respectable,in his solitary study!
Mr. Bott had left the House with Mr. Palliser; and Vavasor, afterthe count-out, was able to walk home by himself, and think of theposition which he had achieved. He told himself over and over againthat he had done a great thing in obtaining that which he nowpossessed, and he endeavoured to teach himself that the price hewas paying for it was not too dear. But already there had come uponhim something of that feeling,--that terribly human feeling,--whichdeprives every prize that is gained of half its value. The merehaving it robs the diamond of its purity, and mixes vile alloy withthe gold. Lord Middlesex, as he had floundered on into terribledisaster, had not been a subject to envy. There had been nothing ofbrilliance in the debate, and the Members had loomed no larger thanordinary men at ordinary clubs. The very doorkeepers had hardlytreated them with respect. The great men with whose names the papersare filled had sat silent, gloomy, and apparently idle. As soon asa fair opportunity was given them they escaped out of the House, asboys might escape from school. Everybody had rejoiced in the break-upof the evening, except that one poor old lord who had worked so hard.Vavasor had spent everything that he had to become a Member of thatHouse, and now, as he went alone to his lodgings, he could not butask himself whether the thing purchased was worth the purchase-money.
But his courage wa
s still high. Though he was gloomy, and almost sad,he knew that he could trust himself to fight out the battle to thelast. On the morrow he would go to Queen Anne Street, and woulddemand sympathy there from her who had professed to sympathize withhim so strongly in his political desires. With her, at any rate, theglory of his Membership would not be dimmed by any untoward knowledgeof the realities. She had only seen the play acted from the boxes;and to her eyes the dresses would still be of silk velvet, and theswords of bright steel.
Can You Forgive Her? Page 47
