The alternate system, as Lady Twentifold called it, happily prevails in the national England, as well as in the domestic. When one batch of Statesmen has done a world of harm, and are getting skilful at it—as in three years, or four at the outside, they are sure to learn to be—a cry of "Turn them out" begins first in the gallery.
Then the people who pay more, look up, and soon become inclined to rap their sticks. Before long, a general demand arises, for the room rather than the company, of the individuals on the platform. If they are gentlemen, they make their bow, and retire, heartily wishing bad luck to their successors. But if they are—something that rhymes with Rads, they pretend to hear nought, till a stunning row arises; and then they do this, they call out—
"Policeman, let in all the public, who had got no tickets. They won't have seen any part of our performance; and therefore they can judge impartially."
This was the very thing going on just now. The Government had no leg left to stand on,—a very good reason for their not going out,—but sitting on the quarter, which had been well kicked (to keep Britannia's in countenance) they were doing what we little boys in Maiden Lane were clever at, (until the new system abstracted our material) that is to say, making go-cartfuls of dust, to blow through a pipe at the inquiring public.
Seven measures, of primary importance, had been promised; and hecatons of wise rogues had been sent round, to inoculate the public with an itch for home-dust, as a pleasant little change from the national mud-stains. And a flourish of trumpets had filled the air of England, with a Krakatoa volume of that fine material, which contains the germs of everything. In the gracious speech from (their own cracks in) the Throne, Ministers solemnly informed the Country, that internal repairs were its urgent need, and the only way to make them was to pull it all in pieces, and double all the stuff, with the blessing of the Lord. The good old material had groaned at this; but what is the use of groaning, with the hatchet in the air?
The first need of all was to get rid of landowners. Land belongs to every one, and therefore to no one. Why have men got feet, except to plant them where they like? Nature has implanted in the human heart a profound desire for the ownership of land. This proves, that everybody must own land. But how, without kicking every other body out? Towards that, the first step is, to kick out present owners. When the others get in, they must be kicked out too. There is no other way to have it cultivated properly; but this will ensure a "succession of crops." A narrow-minded man may fight hard to keep his foot upon what he has spent his hands and mind in earning. But with a little patience, that evil will die out.
Nothing can be simpler than to provide, that after a certain date, no landowner shall be capable of prolonging his unjust tenure, by the suppeditation of heirs to his estate. No physical means will be taken to this end. He will still remain in full enjoyment of every British right, civil, moral, social, and politico-œconomical. But he must not have children; or if he dares to do so, the State will take them from him; and enlist them in the Army, at the usual age of British soldiers—sixteen. Or if they be girls, they will have a free passage to the Chiefs guaranteed to be ravaged by the Boers.
The second great measure was the Dust-bin franchise, or—at sufficient distance from London to ensure intelligence—that of the Dust-pan. A sanitary, not to say a necessary measure, appealing to every heart and hearth.
The third, (whose preamble was eloquence itself, to such an extent that it cannot be cited) enabled the surrender, without consideration, of all strong places, at present held by Her Majesty's forces, upon foreign soil, or soil which (without such British occupation) would be foreign to this realm. Also, of all British ships of war, whether built to pass over the waves, or beneath them, together with all fittings, and implements of war, (in proportions to be defined by the schedules thereafter) to the following Powers; that is to say, France, Russia, and the Irish Republic, heretofore better known as the Land-League.
The fourth Bill provided for the abolition of every Municipal Corporation, or other corporate, or incorporate, body of burgesses, or ancient freemen, making claim to deal with their own affairs, without licence from the Home Secretary, or the Local Government Board, or the Railway Station, that might be nearest. Unless such Municipal Body could show, that they had not been constituted for more than ten years, and consisted entirely of Liberals.
Short and sweet was the fifth Bill of Government. It had no preamble but this, "Whereas no Englishman knows how to govern himself," and then it enacted, that no man should play cards, chess, back-gammon, quoits, skittles, billiards, bagatelle, or any other game of chance, or skill, except in the presence of a certified policeman, at a distance of not less than half a mile from any Licensed Victualler, with no more than two sterling pence at stake; every such game to be discontinued, immediately upon the Home-Secretary's yawn, which would be announced throughout all English counties, by telephonic agency. But in Scotland, and Wales, and wherever else the Liberal cause was predominant, all people might play, whenever, wherever, and for whatsoever sum, they pleased.
Of the sixth Bill, the man of the greatest experience, and insight to be found, (at any cubeage of mileage from London, and all its stupidity) could not make head, or tail; though he sat up, until a policeman from the Home Department ordered him to bed. The only theory at all to be entertained about it, was that the gentleman, entrusted with the draft, had taken another, to inspire him for his labours; or else had imbibed, too deeply perhaps, the spirit of his subject. It was all about Ireland, (from which the great St. Patrick expelled all the devils, on the herd of swine system,—except that they stopped at home, as well as swam the Channel) for nothing can ever convey, to the unmeasurable apogee of Radical brains, the wisdom of leaving unstirred Camerina. Since that party, by means of cold summers and hot ravings, stuck their heels into the Country's ribs, they had never allowed it to chew anything, but black wild oats of Ireland. Perish India, perish Colonies, perish England, perish everything, except savages who stab all kindness! And their last panacea was this great measure,—to govern Ireland, according to Irish ideas. "Whereas no Irishman obeys the laws, and thereby incurs, illegally, irrationally, and unjustly, the stigma of lawlessness; be it enacted, that after the passing of this Act, there shall be no laws in Ireland." With the aid of Hibernian Members, this Bill was certain to pass; and it could do no harm.
The seventh, and last, of the measures, upon which the Government staked its existence, (although they had fifty-two more, which they pledged themselves to carry, if shoved on much) was sensible, and simple, and consistent with all Legislation in that province. It merely prohibited the opening of flowers, whether under glass, or out of doors, after six o'clock p.m. Forasmuch as a scientific Member had assured the Licensed Anti-Victualler, that divers of them are guilty of intoxicating agency.
"Of all truths, the surest is the truth well established by the behaviour of Britons for many years now,—one man may steal a horse and canter away, with every hat (even the owner's) tossed up, in applause of the brilliant proceeding; while the same man's first cousin, (who peeped through the hedge, at the dew on grass, or the daisies) lies groaning in the stocks, and perhaps touches his hat to the luck, which rides over everything. If any other man, of any English era, from Heptarchy to Hecatarchy, (that last child of Hecate) had stolen from his happy mead, and lashed into foam, and thrown upon his knees, with his strong back broken, that fine old nag the British Constitution; after the horse he would have had the cart—which is not his own order of placing them—and the cart would have been the one that drives to Tyburn."
Thus said Sir Roland. But owning no land, and no sentiments (therewith transmitted, and tripled at every other generation) I scarcely knew who had been stealing the horse, and only hoped that the nag would come home again. For a horse is the most sacred of all property, infinitely dearer than house, wife, or child—according to the precedents of English law—and very likely he deserves it.
But what did I care about horses, or hedges, or the clever man who made the horse jump the hedge, (ready-saddled that he might steal him) or even the state of the British Constitution, which passes through so many horse-chanting hands? My convictions were solid, and their grounds of the same character; all grouted in with concrete, and pointed with best Portland cement, and not a bit of lime-blow anywhere, nor any sign of job-work to be found in them. Yet I am not ashamed to say,—because I shall secure all honest sympathies—that if my orders had been to make tea for the man who stole the horse, and a bran-mash and litter, for the animal thus stolen, and to whistle to both of them, while they did their duties; the teapot, and the bucket, and the other necessaries, would not have been out of the reach of my arm.
But, why? As everybody has taken to ask now. "Why do you do this? And why don't you do that?" The last thing that any man should have to explain; because it leads him into a tremendous lot of lies. He has not the least idea, why he did a single one of them. But he can't say that; and he sets to with after-thoughts, like a man who builds his house of the chimney-pots.
In my case, however, there is no hard why. To the youngest, (or even the oldest) intelligence, the flexibility of my principles, (though granitic as above) needs no explanation, when I set before them Laura.
"Dear Tommy, don't be made a party man;" she said to me, just before Parliament met, and while I was holding a skein of floss-silk (which is difficult stuff to manage) that she might wind it for some lovely work.
"You are the party that makes me one;" I answered, with a sigh, to earn some gratitude; "can anybody question the purity of my motives, when he looks at you, dear?"
"I don't want compliments, instead of common sense, Tommy. Of politics I know next to nothing, although I hear so much every day. But all I hear is upon one side so much, that I cannot help thinking, what the other side may be; and sometimes I should like you to try it."
"Darling, have you any thought, that has not its image, and counterpart with me? Whatever passes through your most beautiful mind, at the very same moment comes through mine. Only yours is so very superior."
"No, Tommy, no. You must never say that, because I shall fear that you are laughing at me. Now, don't drop the silk—no, I don't look entrancing; and there was nothing whatever in the situation, to compel you to do it, or me to allow it. You keep on manufacturing excuses of that sort. And a rising Statesman should be above such conduct. Where was I? You have quite deranged my thoughts. Oh, about the present state of the nation, to be sure! Roly is a great alarmist; but I cannot see any harm at all going on; and I do hate wars, and faction-fights. Why need you go up, to take your seat at all? My father was in Parliament continually; but he took care never to go near it."
"Neither would I, if I could help it, Laura. But the times are very different now. I have not the least chance, dear, of ever attaining what I long for most in all the world, except by going up; and more than that, doing something to satisfy your dear brother."
"Well, promise me one thing. Make beautiful speeches, (as you ought to do, after all your practice, in saying fine things to me every day) and so become a leader of great principles; but try not to be harsh with any one. It would spoil your nature, which is so sweet, and cheerful. Remember that the gentlemen, you disagree with, have a right to their own opinions, and a claim to be treated as gentlemen; instead of being abused—oh, in shocking language! Sometimes Roland makes me stare."
"He is very hot indeed," I could not help admitting, as I smiled at the horror on the sweet kind face. "But remember, dearest, that they give him reason; for they care very little what they say themselves. And much worse than that, is what they do; at least in his honest opinion. He believes them to be ruining his Country. Can a warm-hearted young man be expected to sprinkle rose-water on the destroyers of his Country?"
"That is the opposite extreme;" she insisted, with more common sense than could be gainsaid. "Surely he might express what he feels, in forcible language; without imputing bad motives, and all sorts of wickedness, to people who may be doing harm, but are not doing it on purpose. At any rate, Tommy,—though he is past cure, and soon puts me down, if I dare to say a word—I shall cease to believe, that you care for me, if I hear of your going on so."
Well, here was a cleft stick for me to be in! If I should fail to prove myself a red-hot Tory Sir Roland would have none of me. Whereas, if I won his good-will in that way, his sister would throw me over. Not that she put it so coarsely as that; but when a girl says, that she will not believe in a man's affection for her, it generally means that her own for him will be in still greater danger. My fortune is, always to get into scrapes; and my nature, to get out of them.
When I returned to "Placid Bower," as the elected of Larkmount-on-the-Hill, (for paper had not the least chance against soap) I found my dear mother in a state of much excitement, and ready to believe almost anything.
Now, why does excitement so multiply the powers of faith, when it ought to do the opposite? However, so it does; and the slaves of "pure reason" are as credulous as any, in their ardour for it.
But my dear mother, (though the kindest-hearted, and most liberal-minded of nearly all women) always considered it an insult, to have pure reason, in any form, applied to her. And right she was, when the premises were hers, and she had bought out even the Ground-landlord.
"Tommy," she said, "I am always most particular, in my expressions about the Government. Your father took some excellent Government contracts, through his heroism with the three-inch hose; otherwise how could we have bought this house? It is useless for you to talk, as if that Government was not the same as this one. That may be true; but it proves nothing. A Government must be the Government; and the Government it was, that paid us so much money. So that I will hear no complaints against them, for this trifle, or for that; because of all things, I have such a scorn for ingratitude. We may not like everything they do, about cards, and Policemen, and Railway Stations, and preventing my Evening Primroses, because of the great abilities of Lord Beaconsfield. But we must not be selfish, my dear son, nor expect to have everything to our liking. In a penny evening paper, which seems to be clever, and writes about everything, I have found out everything they mean to do; and I quite agreed with him, that stupid people may misunderstand it. For instance, I don't like giving up the fleet; though no doubt it is a most expensive thing, and your dear Uncle William is now no more. But the first, and greatest of the Acts they mean to do, appears to me like a sign-post, with the finger of Providence upon it. Not that I should ever feel the very least desire. And nothing could come of it, in my time, of course. But it would be so beautiful for you, my dear!"
It took me some time, to discover what this meant. And my mother was not very anxious to explain. But at last I found out, that the sign-post pointed to my possession of the Twentifold estates, if Sir Roland were prohibited from having any heirs! That one of the best and simplest of her sex should have strayed into the snare of covetousness, (set by all measures, that dabble with property) determined me at once, to fight that measure to the utmost.
Bill Chumps was come back from his wedding tour (having been called to the bar, and the altar, one day after each other) but not as yet called into Parliament, by the voice of Sir Roland Twentifold. His father gave a dinner at "The Best End of the Scrag," because his own house was not large enough; and no man, who was there, ever tastes a fine joint, without saying—"Ah, but you should have had a cut from the baron, and the saddle of old Chumps, that day. I have often tasted fine meat; but by George, sir, I never knew what velvet was till then!" There was not a foreign kickshaw handed round; but any man, who wanted unintelligible compounds, might go and fill his spoon, at the sideboard.
Sir Roland was there, and made the speech of the evening, a great deal better than Bill's—for Bill got his at the back of his tongue beforehand, and then forgot every word of it; and his heart (being meant to play second fiddle) refused to come up, and take first one. But Roly did really roll it out, in a style which gave me great hopes, that he might upset most of the seven Bills of the enemy, without calling upon my poor resources. And we had a jolly evening, I can assure you; though there is no time to say any more about it now.
In return, I invited (with mother's good leave) a snug little party of loyal, enlightened, and truly large-hearted Conservatives to dinner, at our humble "Placid Bower," on the Monday evening, with the Session beginning on the following day. Mr. Windsor was there, and my old friend Jack (now growing very partial to Belinda Chumps), as well as Mr. Peelings, the great potato-dealer, Mr. Blewitt of the Indigo factory, and of course Mr. Chumps, and his son William, and several other gentlemen, one of whom was the owner of "The Pratt Street Express," a sound and influential journal. The object of the dinner was in the foremost place to dine; and then to deliver, for my comfort and direction, the safest, most practical, and constitutional counsels, ever yet vouchsafed to any youthful representative.
Of all these gentlemen, Jack included, there was not one but regarded me as sent into Parliament for his own use and benefit, as well as for a high example of wisdom, after following his advice. But the worst of it was, that no two of them gave me the same advice, beyond general precepts—to look sharp, to be cautious, to keep my pluck up. As soon as I wanted to thread my needle, and make my coat with their furnishing—behold, it was not even yarn, or I might say wool, grown long enough for combing. They had thought out none of the things they talked of; and the round-hand lessons in a copy-book would serve me as good a turn as theirs.
However, they all agreed in condemning all the seven great measures of the Government; although upon widely diverse grounds, disagreeing very warmly, as to what their badness was. And this made me doubt, when I came to dwell upon it, whether after all they could be so very bad. When a dog is tail-piped, sympathy arises in every bosom that has tails behind it; as soon as he is pelted, his merits grow on every one, who cannot find a stone to throw at him; but let him have sticks, bottles, tiles, flints, brickbats, each expressive of a different stand point, yet all promiscuously hurled at him,—and to every candid mind, that cannot get the window open, what is he, before he turns the corner? Why, a hero, a martyr, a saint of a dog.
It is not in my power, to describe to you all the mixture, or the magnitude, of my feelings, when I entered what our noble journalists—who choose words, like oysters, by their fatness—call the "Portals of St. Stephen."
It is superfluous to say, that a policeman met me; the differentia of that species being to jump up (like the teeth of Cadmus) outside of all requirement, and to vanish (like Berenice's hair) inside it.
"You can't come in here, young man." He made this remark (looking over my head, for his stature was six feet four, and his mouth opened upwards, as all good police-mouths do) in a tone, which conveyed that it was unofficial, and required some apology for excess of affability.
"Peeler, yes he can though! He have a right in there;" exclaimed a voice behind me. "He don't look very nobby p'raps, with all that hair, but he have the same right as I have, Master Bobby. In marches Tommy Upmore, M.P. Tommy, now won't you shake hands with me? One old friend is worth a score of new ones. Without me, so help me Sammy, never would you be here, my boy! But I bears no malice, if your mind is the same. Shake hands, Tommy. There's worse gen'lemen to be found, than Joseph Cowle, Esquire, M.P."
Perhaps I have never received, or inflicted, a stronger sensation of surprise. This may have been, to find my own importance (which must have been growing too rankly) assaulted by a policeman, and asserted by a chimney sweep.
"Mr. Cowl?" I asked, while giving him my hand; though his own would not have been the worse for a "repetatur haustus" of the little boiler engine; "Have you quite recovered from your dreadful cold?"
"All Liberals suffers from throatiness," he replied; "same as Tories does from cheekiness. M.P. for Chimneystacks now I am, Tommy; with an e to the tail of my name as well. The missus would have it, with her education; though beyond me to pronounce it, without 'Cowly.' How you are going up the tree, hot cockles!"
"And you up the chimney!" I replied, with a glance at his dress, which was worthy of the first of May. "I never could have guessed who you were; and how could you recognise me, Mr. Cowly?"
"Come now! Come now!" He spoke, as a groom to a horse cutting too many capers. "After the print of you, on the title-page of all the leading magazines—'Head of hair unparalleled outside the Polar regions, 3s. 6d. per bottle, and then throw away your combs!' Ah, Tommy, dust comes perfessional to me. We know what sends you into this here crib. Five hundred a week, and a royalty on sales. Pays better than ledgery slating!"
I had heard of these absurd reports ere now, and I never hope to hear the last of them. Is there any credulity, among barbarians, a hundredth part as wild as that of the British public, in such matters? People of fair common sense, and with some experience of the world, believed that I was making an enormous income, by lending my name, and my countenance—full-front, profile, and three-quarters—to fellows who advertised hair-oil, balsams, electric, and fifty other sorts of comb, and even my own father's speciality, soap (such as cured all the convicts)—not one of whom, I deeply regret to assure you, upon my honour, as the member for Larkmount, ever paid me a shilling, or even asked me to dinner!
But one is apt to dwell too much upon such trifles. If I have put a penny (one per cent., honest) into any enterprising tradesman's pocket, I make him a present of the honest portion, which would not be worth legal expenses.
Questions of a thousandfold more importance thronged upon me now, as I entered the House, under convoy of the Member for Chimneystacks, who whispered to me, that the Dust-pan Bill was mainly of his own suggestion.
Having been introduced already, at the end of the Autumnal sitting, I did not require his services in that way, but found a quiet corner for my hat, and thought of the time when I put down my trencher some five years ago in the chapel of Corpus.
Then we rushed to hear the Royal Speech, rather like a mob of workmen, when the bell rings; and Sir Roland, whose strength lay in hurrying others more than himself, appeared quite at his leisure, and laughed, as he shook my hand, to find it trembling.
"You'll soon get over that;" he said, as if he had been some fifty years in Parliament. "But who is your friend with the dark complexion?"
I told him the story; but he did not laugh at all heartily, as I had expected.
"An exceedingly dangerous fellow," he exclaimed. "To be sure, I know all about him now. One of the cleverest of all the Clasts, with the true pass-word for the Cabinet. An anarchist, a socialist, a communist, and everything else that rhymes with fist, which is the only tool to meet them with. Chumps is the man for such fellows; but we shall not have him here for a fortnight. There now, Faithful Commons, go home. But they will have no homes to go to, except a common, if all this comes to pass. And yet, how well it has been made to sound, for people who do not care for sense!"
I was not of his opinion, upon that point. To my simple mind, plain English words, mainly of English birth, and showing (one after other) what they mean, without any tangles or knots in them, are the right words to move the English heart. Whoever speaks thus, wins all my ears, and goes a long way towards winning my heart; because he is my brother Englishman. And even for sound, what power is there, whatever the scowl of the cloud may be, in long foreign thunder, below the horizon, and perhaps meaning something, in Italy, or Greece? But the Royal Speech, as usual, meant nothing anywhere; any more than the poor man, who foretells the weather.
"A greenhorn like you, Tommy," said Sir Roland, as if he had served at least through the Long Parliament, "would expect a great fight, and a smash-up, at once, to follow up that palaver. But Thong, who knows everything, tells me that nothing, except little Irish rows, will be on for a fortnight. And we can do a heap more good, he says, by going down to Silverside, and making Chumps safe, than by hanging about for any trumpery divisions. It is jolly to see a fellow in his troubles. Suppose we start to-morrow?"
"With all my heart;" I answered. And in saying this, I had used the right words, at the right moment. Not that I cared to see Bill in the straw so much, although it is a pleasant spectacle; but that I did long, with all my heart, to hear Laura's opinion on politics, with the whole of Her Majesty's speech cut out, and pasted up—as I had told her to do it—in the corner of my little room, where I meditated, and had left a woolly outline of my head against the wall.
Our work was to be at Silverside; where Bill and his father already were in residence, having taken the front that looked over the porch, on the High Street side of the "Bull-and-Mouth Hotel." William Chumps, Esquire, had brought down "his lady, a lovely bride of some nineteen summers," as the Silverside Constitutional described her, though I could depose that she was four and twenty, being eleven months older than myself, and no bride of any summer at all, but married to Bill for three months of the winter. There was no taint of envy in my feelings. She certainly looked very handsome, and had spent a good lump of her £12,000 in apparel; and Bill, of course, was mightily proud of her. But to dream, for a moment, that I was pining, as her melancholy manner towards me conveyed,—I longed very often to bring my Laura; but a scene of that kind was not fitted for her! Patriotic sentiments repressed my private anger; and I worked very hard for Bill; and wrote him some good posters.
"Now, I am off for the Towers," I said to Sir Roland, only two days before the one fixed for the poll; "I can't stand any more of this, and Bill cannot want me any longer. I have had the very kindest letters from your mother; and if you prefer racket to home-life, I don't. I will meet you in London, any day you may appoint. But I must have a little quiet first. 'Tis as bad as a boat-race every day; and at Henley once I lost my nerve, from too much of it, and we got whacked."
"I see;" he replied, as he was fond of doing. "Another man's laurels, wreathed with orange-blossom, are hard to behold philosophically. Go, Tommy, go and recruit your roses. But remember our compact. You have won nothing yet."
He might say what he pleased, when he smiled like Laura; though his smile was strength, and hers was sweetness. That evening, I arrived where I was welcome; and the lovely blush, and soft whisper of a kiss, were worth a world of politics, and Parliament.
The privilege of changing their minds has always been handsomely yielded to fair ladies; so long as they do not change there with their precious hearts, and pure affections. I found my Laura in a vastly different political vein from her previous one. She had taken some peeps into the newspapers, not at all for the sake of the public, but for mine; and all the deep warmth of her nature was stirred, by the Radical outrage, to her country and her home.
"About the suffrage, and the Constitution, and the Abstinence-cause, I know nothing, or less than nothing—as gentlemen express it, though I don't see how there can be less than nothing;" she said to me, the very day after my arrival. "But about right and wrong, everybody has a right to some opinion. For poor landowners, what is it but robbery, downright robbery, to take away their land, and compel them to start afresh to earn more? But, oh, Tommy, Tommy, it takes all my breath away, to think of surrendering the English fleet to the bitterest enemies of England! Oh, come in here, that I may show you something it will strengthen all your principles to see."
There are few things more impressive to the model British mind—of which mine is, I am proud to say, a very tidy specimen—than a genuine series of ancestors in oil, proved (by internal and external evidence) extraneous to Wardour Street. Monuments perhaps have a still grander savour, especially recumbent figures of the Knight, and his Lady, on a slab together, with the little ones that failed to come to harm, sculpturally coming up, like frogs for the blessing. But these are very rarely to be found in any Chancel, or Chapel, by the dozen; while the pictures have an old family habit of keeping together. And to me it appeared that the Twentifold race were what our dear cousins, (who supply our slang, after stealing our standards) call "real grit," for never having driven me, or anybody else, into this caravan of dead Twentifolds. For my gallery of ancestors was restricted to a photograph of my dear father, and an ancient daguerreotype of Uncle Bill.
"Oh, Laura," I cried, when I saw them stretching, (like the windows of a Stop-at-all-Stations-train) for a furlong without any corner; "how can you look at all these great people, and come down from them, to a nobody like me?"
"Hush!" she said. "How dare you talk like that? I didn't bring you here, to be impudent, Tommy."
"But I am astonished," I replied, "astonished, that with all these looking at you, you can look at me!"
"What is there astonishing in it?" she asked, coming up, and putting both hands on my shoulders. "It is, because I love you, dear."
At any other time, I must have kissed her, for those simple, and noble words. It was no thought of all those ancestors that robbed me of that pleasure; but I could not bear that she should look into my eyes, and see how full they were of tears. Then I ventured to put my arm round her waist, and she gave me her left hand, to comfort me.
"Here's the fine old gentleman, I brought you in to look at;" her voice was quite gay again, to pass the fuss over; "does he look, as if he would surrender our fleet, to the enemies of England?"
"He looks fitter to make all her enemies surrender. What a resolute face, and how his foot is planted! Ah, if we had any man to plant his foot, and shut his mouth in that style, now! All open mouth now—as Roly says—open mouth, tongue instead of chin, and instead of strong fist, chattering fingers. A man of that stamp can never have belonged to any time later than Nelson's. No Government would employ him now, in any of our trumpery 'demonstrations.' Let me look at him. It does me good."
The picture, being by no well-known artist, would doubtless be called a daub, by all art-critics rightly flourishing. But to me it seemed full of life and spirit, not always to be found in mighty masters. An Admiral of the ancient days, and himself growing ancient, stood at a gangway before his men, to repel assault of boarders. In his right hand was a big sword, flashing almost as brightly as his eyes, while his left hand pointed to the Union-jack, waving through a cloud of smoke above.
"Who was he?" I asked. "He means to do it. I should have been sorry to board that ship?"
She drew from behind the frame a plate of gilt metal, engraved in red, "Admiral Sir Rupert Towers-Twentifold, A.D. 1740."
"Yes, he did it;" she answered, with her eyes almost as bright as his; "He cut three men down, with his own hand, and then leaped on board the Spanish ship, drove the crew below, and captured it. He was the sixth back in straight line from Roly; and Roly sometimes looks exactly like him. That makes it my favourite picture of them all. Though I like Roly better, when he looks quiet."
"It won't do to look quiet always;" I replied, with the spirit of the conflict caught; "except for such sweet souls as you. Darling, you make lovely patchwork. Will you do a little job for me, without a word to any one?"
The Government had intended wisely to deal the first of their seven great blows at the weal of their hostile Country, with the Bill (which they were sure to pass) for swamping the votes of the enemy. With this once done, to suit their book, any dissolution of Parliament must redound to their sole benefit. But this pretty plot was not played out, according to arrangement; for the Irish members stopped it.
These, although they had their own bear-garden now in College Green, found treason there too orthodox to afford any pure enjoyment, and made a point of coming over to keep their pepper-boxes hot; which, according to the Kill-England Compact, were to be at their service for ever. And still sticking together—like bots in a horse, though without any humour apparent—they made everything go, or not go, according to their own appetite.
Their appetite now was all wide-mouth, for the third part of our fleet, protocolled to them; and with national ardour, and stupidity, they roared for the passing of that Bill at once; and the Government, of course, gave way to them. Stupidity I say, because if they had waited for the Dust-pan Bill, they would have had our fleet entire.
"Gentlemen, I begin to have some little hope now;" Sir Roland said to us, as soon as we had finished an excellent dinner, as his guests, at the Cockles Club—for so everybody calls the "Horatius Cocles" at Westminster Bridge. There were twenty of us there, all M.P.'s; and not one would have feared to take a header off the bridge, having Mr. Panclast under his arm. "To-morrow the fight begins; and the enemy (through his own currish nature) affords us one more chance. If he had taken up the dust-pan first, with the regiment behind him that sucks his buttons, he must have swept everything before him. But in dread of O'Woundy, and Digger, he takes up the craze every Briton cries shame at, before he has thoroughly gagged them. I need not remind you, that public opinion, as it used to be called, is against this Bill, more than all the others put together. But public opinion is a dead letter now; since the Press tried to pass their own for it. And even if it had the Press to back it, the Hecatons would light their pipes with it. To me it appears that our last chance lies in the ghost, long expatriated, of patriotism; if only it might for one half-hour revisit the glimpses of this English moon. But what says our excellent and powerful ally, the newly elected of Silverside?"
Bill, though he had only got his seat three days, had already made two speeches; and being always full of argument, he was glad to make another. But, as he made another, containing the very same observations in the House, next day, I need not report what he said just now. Not that I would blame any man, for saying the same things twice, or twenty times. No man can put a new head to his hammer, every time he thumps a block of coal; and we Britons used to be a fine block of Wallsend, hard to splinter, and impossible to crack, without fifty good thumps in the hole of each other. The Government knew this, and made their fire of the rubble.
Our case, though the best that could possibly be found, seemed likely to be a bad one. Mr. Thong, who knew exactly how every vote would go, reported that the best we could hope for was a minority of fifty. Every Irishman, of course, would vote for the glory of Ireland, and the disgrace of Great Britain. Except some half-dozen, who had been in our Army, or Navy, and still had some regard for the old flag. So that our hearts were very gloomy, when the great debate began.
The Government introduced their Bill, with the old clap-traps about "universal peace, goodwill everywhere, fraternity of nations, symmetry, harmony, beneficence of commerce, expansion of the intellect, and so on. To all these noble things now there remained one wretched little obstacle, which it was our duty and our privilege to remove at once, the leprous stain of blood-guiltiness, and greed"—in the mill of their eloquence they ground up metaphors—"and that obstacle was the ambition of England. If once we proffered, to the world at large, this magnificent pledge of our candour, confidence, and chivalrous resolve not to raise our hands against those who might indeed appear desirous to trample on our bodies, but would abstain, when they found them so defenceless,—then, and not till then, should we be able to claim the proud title of promoters of the glorious cause of humanity." There was a great deal more, even finer than this; but is it not written in the chronicles of Hansard?
The Liberal benches were rent with explosions of applause, like an ancient fig tree; while on our side presently, an honourable Member gained earnest attention, by imitating to a nicety the clucking of a hen, that calls her chicks together.
Being new to the manners of the House, and zealous upon all points of order, up I jumped, and began to run about, trying to catch with my hat the Dame Partlet, so intrusive in high places. Roars of laughter were my reward, the greatest of great guns joining in; and even the omnipotent premier gave me a smile of extraordinary sweetness. I had earned the good-will of the House for ever; and until I am grey, I shall be called "Green Tommy."
Now, this may seem a very small, and childish affair, at a time most truly momentous; and some will accuse me of my accustomed triviality in recounting it. But without fear of contradiction from any then present, and able to form opinion, whether Liberal or Conservative, I say that the cluck of an imaginary hen changed the fortunes of Great Britain, for at least ten years; though her foes will prevail in the end, no doubt. That is to say, unless there is, from time to time—as there ought to be, according to analogy—an outbreak of savage fury, havoc, mad bestiality, and wallowing murder, in that centre, heart, soul, brain, Queen, star, crown, sun, and Deity of the universe, which Mr. Windsor calls "Parree." Insanity there makes London sane; as a man I know well, who cut down his best friend—too late, alas! for any but the Coroner—has been afraid ever since to go near a belfry.
But the turn, by which that cluck saved our Capitol, had nothing to do with either vigilance, or terror, but simply led up to a condition of good humour. Good humour, which is sure to come after a laugh, and a boyish laugh especially, brings back to the mind of a man, for a moment, that he is not the only man in the world. He may not be able to believe it very long, and is quite certain not to remember it; still, even to fancy that there are some others, improves his behaviour, a good bit.
The Government saw, that the vein of the moment was not at all in their favour; and two of the Cabinet went to crave leave of the Irish Members, to put off the division. Sir Roland told me, that he hoped they would get it; while I, knowing nothing of tactics, hoped that the matter might be settled out of hand, while the Members appeared so light-hearted. For surely no Briton, unless in "the blues,"—which all Rads, from disease of the conscience, suffer—would vote for abandoning every stick and stone, that our fathers gave their poor brave lives for. But Roly was right, and I was wrong; as appeared most plainly afterwards. The Irish captain, desiring for a reason of his own, to oblige the prime-minister, gave orders that the debate might be adjourned, if the Government particularly wished it.
This, as you will see, proved a good chance for us. But to take things in their proper order, refreshing my memory by the notes of the Member for Silverside, who had learned shorthand, I find pretty nearly as follows.
When the Bill was entirely before the House—in all its perfect symmetry, according to their language, in all its naked enormity, according to ours—the Leader of the Opposition rose, and in the most courteous and placid manner (which alone might have proved, by its difference from theirs, on which side sense and justice lay) moved, not the entire rejection of the Bill—for that appeared too hopeless, in the teeth of their vast majority—but a moderate amendment, which had been considered (as half a loaf is better than no bread) to be the utmost an Englishman could hope for. Inasmuch as our foreign possessions, and our fleet, were declared by the voice of the Universe, to be a standing menace to civilization, and an outrage to all foreign sentiment, he proposed that the fortresses should be dismantled, and the fleet blown up, instead of being handed over intact, for the use of our enemies. This enraged the Government, almost more than the direct negation would have done. The usual outcry against half-measures arose; and to support it, arose Mr. I. Beright.
This was a very great orator, one of the greatest of all recent times; because he possessed, what our ancestors had, but we for the most part have lost,—the power of putting plain meaning into plain words. A very great man as well, from the clearness, and solid consistence of his mind; and even yet greater he might have been, if Nature had endowed him with the power also of saying "I be wrong," sometimes. However, it was a real treat to hear him, whatever one's opinion of his might be; because there was no need to fish for his meaning, and be vexed with oneself, for not catching it. Indeed, so immense was the force of his words, and his aspect so large and commanding, that it took me a long time to set up again my own weak convictions, against his strong ones. Luckily, however, some little fellows followed, who, doing their utmost to deepen his track, succeeded very nicely in obliterating it; like a lot of children following a giant in the snow. Several members also of the Opposition spoke, appealing to the buried bones of patriotic principle, and reading long extracts from obsolete speeches, and solemn declarations of the present premier; all of which were capable of being explained away, whenever there was no denying them. And at half-past two, the debate was adjourned, on the motion of Lord Grando Crushbill.
All Europe had concluded long ago, that the Government of England had left itself no other blunder to commit, and no further disgrace to fall into. But all Europe was wrong in this conclusion; for before our debate came on again, tidings of a new disaster, and one more foul scorn to British blood, and heart, rang through the streets of London. Those streets were, by this time, so well used to the sound of surrenders, and massacres, seizures by Russia of this, and of that, and French bombardment of Britons, that they took it as calmly as the passing of the plague-cart in September, 1665. Men, full of business, shook their heads at the newsboys, (who spoil their own traffic with chalk, as England has done with her flourish of "free-trade") and the extra editions of the evening papers went back to their offices, except a few copies, sold to visitors wise enough to live far north. In short, the public knew it all, without paying, and kept all their halfpence, to pay for the result.
We, who were punctual, heard it all (after prayers) announced, in a telegraphic voice; as a thing which should go in at one ear, and out at the other, in every head giving up its brains, (as every head, that has got any, does) to the only one worth counting. The Liberal Members seemed thankful for the news; because we could scarcely have rescued the hero, and redeemed our faith, for twelve hundred pounds; and because it set us free, to look after some other, who would truckle more kindly, and pay his own way. But we thought it very bad—very bad indeed; though, of course, it was treason to say so. And none of us saw any light in it; which shows that our eyes were not open.
This piece (of a piece with the rest) of foreign news, happened to arrive on a Saturday; and we (for the sake of the fifty-two reforms) had a Saturday sitting already; which lasted in fact until Church-time on Sunday, and must have despatched any other prime-minister to a place, where even he would scarcely hold all preferment. However, his influence adjourned the fourth commandment—as it used to treat the third—even in the souls of Scotchmen.
For the few, who like to see one of our disasters discussed upon its merits, the best chance is, when the news arrives near about noon of Saturday. It is too late then, for the evening papers to shed their mild light upon it, even if they all employed the gentleman, who settles (at a glance, and a stroke) all the monthly labour of the magazines. And as for the Sunday papers, any that were not out on Friday night (reversing the premier's chronology) have shut their frames now, and are working off. This is as it should be, enabling a sound Briton to go to church, without praying for the Commination Service.
Then upon Monday morning, like a string of horses who have observed the sabbath, with a loud neigh and caper, rush forth the morning papers. They swallow up the earth, like the horse of Job, trample under foot a few writers of fiction—as though they had none on their own backs—scatter the thunder of their neck (or cheek) upon every man they have no fear of, and with one or two quiet exceptions, go down upon their knees, for the jockey of the period to mount them, if he deigns.
But on this Monday morning, they came out mildly, (the most rampant nag knows where his oats are kept) sniffing the air for the direction of the breeze; and going gingerly, as if some English flint remained. And they found very speedily, and so did we, that the great steam roller had not crushed out every power of spark from our ancient metal.
"The tone of the Press is changed, at last;" Sir Roland Twentifold said to me, when the House was meeting for the final issue; "too late to help their Country much; but in time to give waverers some excuse for wavering. There will be as full a House, as ever was known. But our seats are safe. Come, and let me introduce you to Lord Grando."
This was the nobleman who had lately come to the forefront of honour, and of justice; in right of plain language, clear mind, and fine pluck. Whether he were a fine Christian or not, is more than I can pretend to say, but he observed one leading precept, infinitely better than his great opponent. When men reviled him, and persecuted him, and said all manner of evil against him, he rejoiced, and was exceeding glad. And of this joy he had ample store, to last for many generations. "Horrida grando" was his name with the Rads; and he always came down upon them, like a pelt of hail. Yet he carried no frost in his tail; for his manner was vigorous, warm, and stimulating.
"I am to begin, as you know;" he said, with a gay smile, to Sir Roland, in whom he had found a fearless spirit, equal even to his own. "I have great hopes. What say you?"
"He has the true old English spirit, he never knows when he is beaten;" Roly said to me, as we went to our seats, for a crush of Members came pouring in. "And I will tell you another thing, Tommy,—he will not be beaten always. If we can only dish that Dust-pan Bill, (or even if we have it) I will back him for First Lord of the Treasury. All he wants is mellowing, and time will bring it."
Before the resumption of the great debate, a few little questions were asked, concerning the very sad news of Saturday. The Leader of the Government replied, that "there had scarcely been time as yet, to verify the last official despatches. However, there appeared to be some grounds to apprehend, that another unforeseen, and inevitable disaster, in some measure, had befallen the British arms. A limited number of British officers appeared, to some extent, to have lost their lives, in the execution of their duty. This, however, was beyond prevision. They might have incurred some risk, and indeed the result appeared to confirm that view. But Her Majesty's Government had incurred no responsibility whatever, having simply accepted parenthetical functions under—certainly not the Man-in-the-Moon, as an honourable Member suggested, with a levity incomprehensible, and most reprehensible—but under the legitimate and legitimately constituted authorities of—well, of the locality."
Being asked, if the dead men were our flesh and blood, he replied, that "to such an interrogation, highly impolitic in the present condition of difficult and delicate negotiations, seven different forms of reply, very naturally, and conclusively presented themselves. But without further advices, and instructions, and the necessary period for their consideration, it became his duty to deprecate further expenditure of public time."
Being asked, whether these men had not been sent, with the strongest pledges any words could give, to back them up with a British force, and under most solemn assurance, that every act of theirs would be the direct act of the Government of England; he replied, that "no less than fourteen, entirely distinct and apparently materially repugnant, yet easily reconcilable constructions, might be placed upon their sealed instructions. Each of these interpretations had its own undeniable merits, and claim to unbiassed, and leisurely discussion. And, for that purpose, each of them, as simply as possible, and yet essentially, presented itself, with a convenient quadrifurcation. As soon as negotiations were concluded—by which he did not mean, 'as soon as all our men were killed;' though the honourable Member was welcome to his croak—he would gladly undertake to appoint a day, for the discussion of those fifty-six issues. Meanwhile, he refused to be badgered."—Wherewith down he sat; as no other man can.
His candour, good temper, and unusual lucidity were rewarded with an outburst of natural applause; while the Member for ——, whose brother had been killed, arose as if to speak; but could not do it.
But not quite so easily did the great man get off. Without condescending to consult mephitic oracles, Lord Grando Crushbill arose, and spoke well upon the main question before us. He met the vile Bill, with no weak amendment, no confession and avoidance, but the downright "damn," which every foreigner knows well, to be the word whereby we live. No precedent could be discovered, for this brief form of suggesting rejection, and the Speaker pronounced that it was not in accordance with strict Parliamentary usage, for the noble Member to move—"Damn the Bill;" or at least for the motion to be entered.
That speech of Lord Grando—a genuine Philippic—is well known to every true Briton; and as no other man will ever read this book, unless it be a stout American, it is needless for me to cite it here. But while he went on, there was gnashing of teeth, and signs of pale liver disease among the folk, who have learned from Egypt nothing but Egyptian courage, and from Africa in general, the Ostrich-trick. After that, it sounded very mild to move, that the Bill be read this day six months!
To second this motion, Chumps arose; as had been arranged beforehand. And Bill spoke uncommonly well, so far as I am a judge of such matters. He went at it, as if he was splitting down a sheep, for a good customer come for kidneys—his father was the first man in London, I believe, who put kidneys up to twopence halfpenny, and fourpence is the price in that same shop now, and my mother stopped her ears when they asked her such a figure, and did the same thing when she told me of it—however, there was no mistake about Bill's meaning. He had not left Oxford long enough as yet, to forget all the very plain directions of Aristotle, Cicero, and Horace; and whatever was in him, he showed us very honestly, with meat-saw, and chopper, and no hems of flank tucked under. If any objection could be made, it was this—that he followed his father in the way of good weight, perhaps a little more substance than we wanted for our money; as a marrow-bone swindles us, by being solid.
Things happen oddly in this odd world; and a few years ago, could anybody have imagined that the brush of Joe Cowl, the chimney-sweep, would ever come out at the top of the pot of the English Constitution? And not only so, but that you would find it there, brandished against, and quite covering with smuts the new bright steel cleaver from the shop of Mr. Chumps! Time works wonders; and perhaps you will exclaim, that the greatest wonder of all was the fact, that the son of "Bubbly Upmore" the boiler—however, let that stop till we come to it.
Joe had a very large command of words, irregular perhaps, and undisciplined, and more than once, we had to call out, "Order!" At first, from professional habit, he stopped, and pulled out his book, as if to enter "Kitchen-chimney, at five o'clock;" which made Bill, and me, who understood this motion, look at one another, and laugh heartily. Moreover, he had a large command of voice; as behoved a man who had beaten all the rest on his walk, with the shrill cry of, "Se-veep!" I whispered to the honourable Member on our side, who had done the hen so beautifully; and he (being gifted with ventriloquism) in the middle of one of Joe's grandest passages, upset the whole effect, by producing the loud call of the trade, in its longest melancholy—"Se-veep!" so that Joe jumped round, and stared; as if a rival bag, and brush were after him. This was not fair play perhaps; but Cowle deserved it; for the whole of his eloquence was nothing but abuse. He blackened all the people, on whose shillings he had lived, and besmutted everybody with a slate above his head. In short, there was no man, or woman, in existence, with any right to be so, except Joseph Cowle.
We wanted Sir Roland to deliver his speech next; but he said, perhaps too loudly, "I never follow sweeps;" and presently the House was listening to a gentleman, who is always heard with pleasure for his brave manly sentiments, impartiality, and scorn of all pretences. He demolished the Bill, in most admirable style, putting all the arguments against it, better than our side had put them; and then to my surprise declared, that in spite of all that, he had made up his mind to vote for it.
This brought up Sir Roland, and his speech was very fine. Strong indignation made strong words; as the wrath of the billow creates its roar. "For finicking argument what care I? Can a man split straws with a dagger at his throat? Eternal shame falls upon our land, that any man in it should have dreamed of such an act. The man who proposed such an outrage, must have done it, as a lesson towards the stabbing of his own mother." For this he was loudly called to "order;" but disdained the call, and went on reckless. "Where can I find words strong enough? The difficulty is, not to fashion, but to find them. Language has never been made for such cases; for what tongue could have told, that such a case would ever be? Yet, perhaps, it was as well, that there should be this defect; for what language could move lunatics?" Here there was a great row; but Sir Roland's voice was strong. "The word I have used may not be of high courtesy; but it is of deepest charity. I can look across this House, with my hands hanging down, solely upon that supposition. Her Majesty's Ministers love to leave us in the dark. They keep us so still—whether common sense demands their consignment to strait-waistcoat, or to the gallows."
Seldom perhaps has any "limited number of human beings" made a greater row—except in some Liberal massacre—than was now to be had, in all sizes and samples, among men whose names are watchwords. I saw—though he tried to do it quite behind his hat—a Right Honourable Member, whose name is fame, make a trumpet of his hand, and blow out the most hideous screech that ever quelled a "railway-hooter;" and I could not have believed my eyes, unless my ears had been at the back of them. In a word, there was no word, neither any sense among us, head being gone universally, and body left working about, like a worm cut in two.
In the thick of this turmoil, Lord Grando came up, and shook hands with Roly; who was now as quiet, as the stump of the match, that has blown up the castle.
"Something like a maiden speech that was," he said; "but the guillotine maiden, I'm afraid my dear fellow. And we shall operate first upon our own heads. However, better that than slow poisoning."
At first, I did not understand what he meant; but seeing that Roly did, I asked him to explain. He seemed to find me wonderfully stupid—as I am, especially when at all excited, and by this time I was all excitement—but he managed to explain that he had done more harm, than good by his strong short eloquence. He had moved many hearts, which had been covered up (for reasons of Inland Revenue, like a vehicle unused), but he had not done it in the way to bring them out, comfortably, and with himself inside them. To do that properly, there must be no appearance of call, or demand, or anything at all unpleasant—such as rebukes of conscience are—but a gentle opening of a quiet door at first; as if one came by accident, to find something that belonged to one. But who can blame Roly, for not understanding that? He had stirred up right feeling, all the wrong way of the grain; and it was not at all thankful, for being stirred up.
After many more speeches, some right and some wrong, and—which seemed to be first thought of—some good, and some bad; the Prime-Minister rose, to wind up the debate, at about ten minutes past midnight. The House was as silent as a hive of smoked bees, with just one fellow, here and there, not quite dead. I prepared myself for the finest treat of ears, and mind, and perhaps of heart also—though he seldom troubles that—and I said to myself, "No prejudice, if you please!"
However, it was useless to say that. When a man, coming out of his front door, sees another man hacking down his pet tree, is the sense of high art supreme with him? Does he stop to admire the attitude, the muscles, the skilful swing, the bright implement? Nay, rather, in a fine rage, out he rushes, and shouts, "What do you mean by this, sir?"
But making allowance for all my "paltry wrath"—as his sycophants call it—I found it impossible to catch the great man's meaning, as it should be caught. That is to say, well over the heart, thrown straight at it, as a good fielder throws up, and not over one's head, or between one's legs, or twisting in and out, like a left-handed bowler's ball. But for all that, I felt that his voice was grand, and his power enormous; if he would have used it simply, and after the manner of his favourite author. The fault perhaps lies in the multiplicity of his mind, which does not consider the simplicity of ours.
Perhaps, he never had a worse cause to plead; and in the bottom of his heart—which is sound, I do believe—he must have known that, far better than our shallow natures knew it. When at last; he broke out of the dense haze of argument into the pure sky of eloquence, almost he persuaded me not be an Englishman, but for the thought that he himself was one.
"All up now, Tommy!" Sir Roland said to me, as the last tones of that silvery voice, like music for the dead, hung hovering; "after that, it is all up with England."
But I answered—"Hold my belt, a minute. I will try it, whatever comes of it."
For the last two hours, and indeed for the whole of the evening, I had felt throughout my system, that it was in a very extraordinary state. Thumping of the heart, and great expansion of the chest, tingling of arms and legs, and great inhalings of hot light air, had confused me; and whenever a draught from the ventilators (which are like a blow of steam) came under me, I seemed to feel my dress (which I had chosen for its lightness), fill, like the feathers of a bird at rising. Sometimes indignation, sometimes pleasure, sometimes lofty ambition to be useful to my Country, and to Laura's, had been hoisting at me, like a balanced lever. "Don't be afraid," I said, "I can't stop down, any longer. But try to get me a hearing."
To the sudden astonishment of the crowded House, (which could scarcely believe its own eyes at first) I, Tommy Upmore, went up gently, and steadily, as a ring of blue smoke rises, from a cigar, where no draught is. Honourable Members were leaving their seats, for the critical Division, which should split up England; but with one accord, they all turned round and stared. Remembering what Professor Brachipod had told me, I used my hands and feet so well, with my curls spread out to catch the air, that I steered my course, as accurately as I ever steered a boat to bump another. Beneath me, there seemed to be breathless amazement; but I found myself perfectly calm, and smiled.
Avoiding all peril of fire, I hovered, with buoyant delight in every fibre, and a tingle of disdain at the terror of the House—for the greatest men looked quite small down there—till I came to a large beam of the roof; heart of British oak it was; and against it I brought up, with a perfectly erect, and perhaps dignified presentment.
In this position, I caught the Speaker's eye, and removing my hat, which I placed upon the beam, made my bow to him, and sought permission to address the House. The debate being closed, and the division-bell ringing, I could hardly expect to be allowed to speak. But the case was exceptional; and more than that, everybody longed to hear what I had got to say. The Right Honourable, the Speaker, raised his wig, to be certain that his head was right, under it; and with no further symptom of surprise—for he had seen a great many stranger sights than this—said slowly,
"I find no precedent, for a speech from the roof, by any Honourable Member. But I am willing to be guided by the sense of the House, in a case so unprecedented."
Then the silence, which was now becoming painful to me, by reason of my loneliness up there, was broken with loud cries of, "Speak up, Larkmount!" from Members who did not know my name,—"Speak up, Tommy!" from the gentlemen who did; and "Speak down, Tommy!" from my private friends, who were beginning to understand all about it.
"The Honourable Member for Larkmount has possession of the House," said Mr. Speaker.
"Sir," I replied, in a very clear voice, at the same time unbuttoning my coat, which was made like the one I had flown with at Happystowe; "I will not presume upon your indulgence, nor trespass on the kindness of the House below me, except with a very brief quotation, well known to all British Members, whom I would ask to join me in reciting it."
I had now drawn forth a little Union Jack, made for me by my darling; and flinging it open from its hollow silver staff, waved it in the strong light, around my head, keeping time with the noble lines I sang, in a voice that made the heart of oak resound, and the hearts and lungs of men rebound—