Читать книгу The Member And The Radical - John Galt - Страница 16

CHAPTER TEN

When my second session was about to commence, I went to London several days before the opening of Parliament. In this I was incited by a very laudable desire; for the more I reflected on the nature of my public trusts, the plainer I saw that the obligations on a member were more and more manifold; so I resolved to occupy the few preliminary days in going about among the friends and acquaintances that I had made in the former session, and to consult with them concerning the state of things in general: thus it happened that I was very particular in conferring with old Sir John Bulky.

The baronet was a member for a borough in his own county, and had been so for six successive Parliaments; being a good neighbour, a very equitable magistrate, and in all respects a most worthy country gentleman, upholding the laws and the power of Government around him with courageous resolution in the worst of times. But he was grown old and afflicted with the gout, suffering indeed so often from it, that his attendance in the House was frequently interrupted. I had seen his superior sagacity the preceding year, and sometimes we took tea upstairs together when there was a heavy debate, out of which grew between us a very confidential friendship.

Sir John and I very cordially met. He had during the recess been not quite so well in his health as usual, but he had been free of the gout; and it had happened that his eldest son, who had been abroad to see the world, had come home, and that, in consequence, his house had been filled with company for the summer. Many of the guests were also travelled men; and he had opportunities of hearing from them more concerning the state of the continent, as well as respecting society at home, than usual. We had therefore, at our first meeting, a very solid conversation on public affairs, and were quite in unison in our notion that, although the French revolution had gone past the boiling, it was yet in a state to keep the world long in hot water.

‘Depend on it, Mr. Jobbry,’ said the worthy baronet, ‘it will be long before the ruins of the earthquake settle into solid ground; and although Buonaparte and his abettors must be put down for our own sakes, it cannot be denied that the French are well content with him; yet when they are put down, it will be only another revolution. The first came out of themselves upon their neighbours – the next will come from their neighbours upon them; so between the two, at the end of the second revolution I should not wonder if the world were to be found in looser disorder than at the first, which will make the part of Britain the more difficult; for, of all nations in Europe, we are the most apt, by our freedom, to catch the infection of opinions.’

‘That’s strange, Sir John,’ quo’ I; ‘for inasmuch as we are in a state of advance to the nations of the continent, it’s wonderful that we should think their crude dreams and theories objects of imitation for us to follow, which indeed we cannot do unless we go backward.’

‘It is, Mr. Jobbry, however, the case. I have lived long enough in public to observe that every season has its own peculiar malady both moral and physical, and that it rarely happens that men continue in the same mind on public questions for two years together; in short, that the art of keeping the world steady, and which is the art of government, is to find the ways and means to amuse mankind. It is, no doubt, true that the disease of every year is not attended with such high delirium as we have seen of late; but still there is always that morbid disposition about nations that requires great delicacy in the management; and experience has taught me to have a great distrust of general reformations; indeed, it seems to be the course of Providence to make the most fatal things ever appear the fairest; and I never hear of the alluring plausibilities of changes in the state of the world, without having an apprehension that these changes, which promise so much good, are the means by which Providence is working an overthrow.’

When we had discoursed in this manner for some time, he then told me that he had heard it said the Government was going to reduce all things that could be well spared.

‘In a sense, Sir John,’ said I, ‘nothing can be more plausible; but they cannot reduce the establishments without making so many people poorer and obliging them to reduce their establishments, thereby spreading distress and privation wider. It is not a time to reduce public appointments when there is national distress; the proper season is when all is green and flourishing.’

‘Very true,’ replied Sir John; ‘it would seem that the best time of providing for those who must be discharged when governments reduce their appointments, is when new employments are easy to be had; but things at present look not very comfortable in that way, and therefore I am grieved to hear that the distemper of making saving to the general state at the expense of casting individuals into poverty, has infected the Government. In truth, Mr. Jobbry, this intelligence has distressed me quite as much as a change of administration would; for a change of administration does not make actual distress, inasmuch as the new ministers always create, in redeeming their pledges, a certain number of new places, and commonly indemnify for those they abolish; but a mere system of economising – of lessening expenditure during a period of general hardship – is paving the way to revolution; and accordingly, as I am too old now to take a part in so busy a scene, I intend to retire at the close of the present Parliament.’

‘And,’ quo’ I, ‘have you arranged yet for your successor in Easyborough?’

‘Not yet,’ said he; ‘for, to tell you the truth, that’s the chief object that has brought me to town. I have sat for six Parliaments for the borough, and it has never cost me any thing; and I know that whoever I recommend will be received with a strong feeling of good-will, which makes me a little chary on the subject; for I would not like to recommend to them a man that was not deserving of their confidence.’

‘That’s very creditable to you, Sir John; but I should think that they would be right willing to accept your son.’

‘True, Mr. Jobbry, I have no doubt they would accept very willingly my son; but I am not sure that he is just the man fit for them; for though he is a young man of good parts, he has got too many philosophical crotchets about the rules and principles of government, to be what in my old-fashioned notions I think a useful English legislator. He’s honest and he’s firm, but honesty and firmness are not enough; there is a kind of consideration that folly is entitled to, that honesty and firmness will not grant. I don’t know, Mr. Jobbry, if I make you understand me; but as the object of all political power is to make people happy, the right sort of member for Easyborough is a person well advanced in life, and of more good-nature in his humours than rigid righteousness in his principles. My son would do better, and would be a good member for a patriotic community; but the orderly and sober-minded inhabitants of Easyborough require a man of a different character.’

‘And have you found nobody yet, Sir John, that you would recommend?’

‘No,’ says he, ‘no.’

‘I wish,’ quo’ I, ‘that you would think well of me; for I would fain make an exchange for Frailtown; could not you let your son and me make an arrangement for an exchange?’

‘No,’ said Sir John; ‘because I could not recommend you to Easyborough.’

I felt the blood rush into my face at this very plain dealing; and, just to be as plain, said,

‘What’s your objection, Sir John?’

‘Nothing to you as a man, Mr. Jobbry, for I think you both shrewd and clever; but because you have not yet got right notions of what belongs to the public; you take too close and personal an interest for your own sake in your borough. Now that does not consort with my notions – my constituents have never cost me a guinea, and they have never asked me for a favour – a constituency of that kind would not suit you, Mr. Jobbry.’

Soon after this point of conversation, I bade him good morning, and came away; but what he said made a deep impression, and I was really displeased at his opinion of me, which led me to adopt the resolutions and line of conduct that will be described in the next chapter. But the House of Commons, it is well known, is a school of ill manners; and a long sederunt as a member does not tend to mitigate plain speaking.