THE COMPLETE PALLISER NOVELS (All 6 Novels in One Edition). Anthony Trollope
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amiss in seeking to rise by tufthunting and toadying. He was both mean and vain, both a bully and a coward, and in politics, I fear, quite unscrupulous in spite of his grand dogmas; but he believed that he was progressing in public life by the proper and usual means, and was troubled by no idea that he did wrong.
Vavasor, in those dreamy moments of which I have spoken, would sometimes feel tempted to cut his throat and put an end to himself, because he knew that he had taught himself amiss. Again he would sadly 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 pride of which I have spoken, he told himself that it was too late. What could he do now, hampered by such a debt as that which he owed to his cousin, and with the knowledge that it must be almost indefinitely increased, unless he meant to give up this seat in Parliament, which had cost him so dearly, almost before he had begun to enjoy it? But his courage was good, and he was able to resolve that he would go on with the business that he had in hand, and play out his game to the end. He had achieved his seat in the House of Commons, and was so far successful. Men who had ever been gracious to him were now more gracious than ever, and they who had not hitherto treated him with courtesy, now began to smile and to be very civil. It was, no doubt, a great thing to have the privilege of that entrance between the lamps.
Mr Bott had the new Member now in hand, not because there had been any old friendship between them, but Mr Bott was on the lookout for followers, and Vavasor was on the lookout for a party. A man gets no great thanks for attaching himself to existing power. Our friend might have enrolled himself among the general supporters of the Government without attracting much attention. He would in such case have been at the bottom of a long list. But Mr Palliser was a rising man, round whom, almost without wish of his own, a party was forming itself. If he came into power,—as come he must, according to Mr Bott and many others,—then they who had acknowledged the new light before its 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 little since they had left their cab in Palace Yard, and was not very well pleased by the garrulity of his companion. He was going to sit among the first men of his nation, and to take his chance of making himself one of them. He believed in his own ability; he believed thoroughly in his own courage; but he did not believe in his own conduct. He feared that he had done,—feared still more strongly that he would be 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 who knows himself to be a rascal, however great may be his talent, or however 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 them from 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 Constitution without 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. How do, Thompson? You know Vavasor? He’s just returned for the Chelsea Districts, and I’m taking him up. We shan’t divide tonight; shall we? Look! there’s Farringcourt just coming out; he’s listened to better than any man in the House now, but he’ll borrow half-a-crown from you if you’ll lend him one. How d’ye do, my lord? I hope I have the pleasure of seeing you well?” and Bott bowed low to a lord who was hurrying through the lobby as fast as his shuffling feet would carry him. “Of course you know him?”
Vavasor, however, did not know the lord in question, and was obliged to 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, with a curl on his lip.
“But you ought to have known him. That was Viscount Middlesex; he has got something on tonight about the Irish Church. His father is past ninety, and he’s over sixty. We’ll go in now; but let me give you one bit 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 of the forms of the House. The forms of the House are everything; upon my word they are. This is Mr Vavasor, the new Member for the Chelsea Districts.”
Our friend was thus introduced to the doorkeeper, who smiled familiarly, and seemed to wink his eye. Then George Vavasor passed through into the House itself, under the wing of Mr Bott.
Vavasor, as he walked up the House to the Clerk’s table and took the oath and then walked down again, felt himself to be almost taken aback by the little notice which was accorded to him. It was not that he had expected to create a sensation, or that he had for a moment thought on the subject, but the thing which he was doing was so great to him, that the total indifference of those around him was a surprise to him. After he had taken his seat, a few men came up by degrees and shook hands with him; but it seemed, as they did so, merely because they were passing that way. He was anxious not to sit next to Mr Bott, but he found himself unable to avoid this contiguity. That gentleman stuck to him pertinaciously, giving him directions which, at the spur of the moment, he hardly knew how not to obey. So he found himself sitting behind Mr Palliser, a little to the right, while Mr Bott occupied the ear of the rising man.
There was a debate in progress, but it seemed to Vavasor, as soon as he was able to become critical, to be but a dull affair, and yet the Chancellor of the Exchequer was on his legs, and Mr Palliser was watching him as a cat watches a mouse. The speaker was full of figures, as becomes a Chancellor of the Exchequer; and as every new budget of them fell from him, Mr Bott, with audible whispers, poured into the ear of his chief certain calculations of his own, most of which went to prove that the financier in office was altogether wrong. Vavasor thought that he could see that Mr Palliser was receiving more of his assistance than was palatable to him. He would listen, if he did listen, without making any sign that he heard, and would occasionally shake his head with symptoms of impatience. But Mr Bott was a man not to be repressed by a trifle. When Mr Palliser shook 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 in hand, and when he sat down, Mr Palliser would not get up, though Mr Bott counselled him to do so. The matter was over for the night, and the time had arrived for Lord Middlesex. That nobleman got upon his feet, with a roll of papers in his hand, and was proceeding to address the House on certain matters of church reform, with great energy; but, alas, for him and for his feelings! before his energy had got itself into full swing, the Members were swarming away through 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 hold of his arm in the lobby. Had not Mr Palliser been an even-tempered, calculating man, with a mind and spirit well under his command, he must have learned to hate Mr Bott before this time. Away streamed the Members, but still the noble lord went on speaking, struggling hard to keep up his fire as though no such exodus were in process. There was but little to console him. He knew that the papers would not report one sentence in twenty of those he uttered. He knew that no one would listen to him willingly. He knew that he had worked for weeks and months to get up his facts, and he was beginning to know that he had worked in vain. As he summoned courage to look round, he began to fear that some enemy would count the House, and that all would be over. He had given heart and soul to this affair. His cry was not as Vavasor’s cry about the River Bank. He believed in his own subject with a great faith, thinking that he could make men happier and better, and bring them nearer to their God. I said that he had worked for weeks and months. I might have said that he had been all his life at this work. Though he shuffled with his feet when he walked, and knocked his words together when he talked, he was an earnest man, meaning to do well, seeking no other reward for his work than the appreciation of those whom he desired to serve. But this was never to be his. For him there was in store nothing but disappointment. And yet he will work on to the end, either in