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<h3>CHAPTER LVII</h3>
<h3>The Explanation<br/> </h3>
<p>Mr. Monk had been altogether unable to decipher the Duke's purpose in
the question he had asked. About an hour afterwards they walked down
to the Houses together, Mr. Monk having been kept at his office. "I
hope I was not a little short with you just now," said the Duke.</p>
<p>"I did not find it out," said Mr. Monk, smiling.</p>
<p>"You read what was in the papers, and you may imagine that it is of a
nature to irritate a man. I knew that no one could answer my question
so correctly as you, and therefore I was a little eager to keep
directly to the question. It occurred to me afterwards that I had
been—perhaps uncourteous."</p>
<p>"Not at all, Duke."</p>
<p>"If I was, your goodness will excuse an irritated man. If a question
were asked about this in the House of Commons, who would be the best
man to answer it? Would you do it?"</p>
<p>Mr. Monk considered awhile. "I think," he said, "that Mr. Finn would
do it with a better grace. Of course I will do it if you wish it. But
he has tact in such matters, and it is known that his wife is much
regarded by her Grace."</p>
<p>"I will not have the Duchess's name mentioned," said the Duke,
turning short upon his companion.</p>
<p>"I did not allude to that, but I thought that the intimacy which
existed might make it pleasant to you to employ Mr. Finn as the
exponent of your wishes."</p>
<p>"I have the greatest confidence in Mr. Finn, certainly, and am on
most friendly personal terms with him. It shall be so, if I decide on
answering any question in your House on a matter so purely personal
to myself."</p>
<p>"I would suggest that you should have the question asked in a
friendly way. Get some independent member, such as Mr. Beverley or
Sir James Deering, to ask it. The matter would then be brought
forward in no carping spirit, and you would be enabled, through Mr.
Finn, to set the matter at rest. You have probably spoken to the Duke
about it."</p>
<p>"I have mentioned it to him."</p>
<p>"Is not that what he would recommend?"</p>
<p>The old Duke had recommended that the entire truth should be told,
and that the Duchess's operations should be made public. Here was our
poor Prime Minister's great difficulty. He and his Mentor were at
variance. His Mentor was advising that the real naked truth should be
told, whereas Telemachus was intent upon keeping the name of the
actual culprit in the background. "I will think it all over," said
the Prime Minister as the two parted company at Palace Yard.</p>
<p>That evening he spoke to Lord Cantrip on the subject. Though the
matter was so odious to him, he could not keep his mind from it for a
moment. Had Lord Cantrip seen the article in the "People's Banner"?
Lord Cantrip, like Mr. Monk, declared that the paper in question did
not constitute part of his usual morning's recreation. "I won't ask
you to read it," said the Duke;—"but it contains a very bitter
attack upon me,—the bitterest that has yet been made. I suppose I
ought to notice the matter?"</p>
<p>"If I were you," said Lord Cantrip, "I should put myself into the
hands of the Duke of St. Bungay, and do exactly what he advises.
There is no man in England knows so well as he does what should be
done in such a case as this." The Prime Minister frowned and said
nothing. "My dear Duke," continued Lord Cantrip, "I can give you no
other advice. Who is there that has your personal interest and your
honour at heart so entirely as his Grace;—and what man can be a more
sagacious or more experienced adviser?"</p>
<p>"I was thinking that you might ask a question about it in our House."</p>
<p>"I?"</p>
<p>"You would do it for me in a manner that—that would be free from all
offence."</p>
<p>"If I did it at all, I should certainly strive to do that. But it has
never occurred to me that you would make such a suggestion. Would you
give me a few moments to think about it?" "I couldn't do it," Lord
Cantrip said afterwards. "By taking such a step, even at your
request, I should certainly express the opinion that the matter was
one on which Parliament was entitled to expect that you should make
an explanation. But my own opinion is that Parliament has no business
to meddle in the matter. I do not think that every action of a
minister's life should be made matter of inquiry because a newspaper
may choose to make allusions to it. At any rate, if any word is said
about it, it should, I think, be said in the other House."</p>
<p>"The Duke of St. Bungay thinks that something should be said."</p>
<p>"I could not myself consent even to appear to desire information on a
matter so entirely personal to yourself." The Duke bowed, and smiled
with a cold, glittering, uncomfortable smile which would sometimes
cross his face when he was not pleased, and no more was then said
upon the subject.</p>
<p>Attempts were made to have the question asked in a far different
spirit by some hostile member of the House of Commons. Sir Orlando
Drought was sounded, and he for a while did give ear to the
suggestion. But, as he came to have the matter full before him, he
could not do it. The Duke had spurned his advice as a minister, and
had refused to sanction a measure which he, as the head of a branch
of the Government, had proposed. The Duke had so offended him that he
conceived himself bound to regard the Duke as his enemy. But he
knew,—and he could not escape from the knowledge,—that England did
not contain a more honourable man than the Duke. He was delighted
that the Duke should be vexed, and thwarted, and called ill names in
the matter. To be gratified at this discomfiture of his enemy was in
the nature of parliamentary opposition. Any blow that might weaken
his opponent was a blow in his favour. But this was a blow which he
could not strike with his own hands. There were things in
parliamentary tactics which even Sir Orlando could not do. Arthur
Fletcher was also asked to undertake the task. He was the successful
candidate, the man who had opposed Lopez, and who was declared in the
"People's Banner" to have emancipated that borough by his noble
conduct from the tyranny of the House of Palliser. And it was thought
that he might like an opportunity of making himself known in the
House. But he was simply indignant when the suggestion was made to
him. "What is it to me," he said, "who paid the blackguard's
expenses?"</p>
<p>This went on for some weeks after Parliament had met, and for some
days even after the article in which direct allusion was made to the
Duchess. The Prime Minister could not be got to consent that no
notice should be taken of the matter, let the papers or the public
say what they would, nor could he be induced to let the matter be
handled in the manner proposed by the elder Duke. And during this
time he was in such a fever that those about him felt that something
must be done. Mr. Monk suggested that if everybody held his
tongue,—meaning all the Duke's friends,—the thing would wear itself
out. But it was apparent to those who were nearest to the minister,
to Mr. Warburton, for instance, and the Duke of St. Bungay, that the
man himself would be worn out first. The happy possessor of a thick
skin can hardly understand how one not so blessed may be hurt by the
thong of a little whip! At last the matter was arranged. At the
instigation of Mr. Monk, Sir James Deering, who was really the father
of the House, an independent member, but one who generally voted with
the Coalition, consented to ask the question in the House of Commons.
And Phineas Finn was instructed by the Duke as to the answer that was
to be given. The Duke of Omnium in giving these instructions made a
mystery of the matter which he by no means himself intended. But he
was so sore that he could not be simple in what he said. "Mr. Finn,"
he said, "you must promise me this,—that the name of the Duchess
shall not be mentioned."</p>
<p>"Certainly not by me, if you tell me that I am not to mention it."</p>
<p>"No one else can do so. The matter will take the form of a simple
question, and though the conduct of a minister may no doubt be made
the subject of debate,—and it is not improbable that my conduct may
do so in this instance,—it is, I think, impossible that any member
should make an allusion to my wife. The privilege or power of
returning a member for the borough has undoubtedly been exercised by
our family since as well as previous to both the Reform Bills. At the
last election I thought it right to abandon that privilege, and
notified to those about me my intention. But that which a man has the
power of doing he cannot always do without the interference of those
around him. There was a misconception, and among my,—my
adherents,—there were some who injudiciously advised Mr. Lopez to
stand on my interest. But he did not get my interest, and was
beaten;—and therefore when he asked me for the money which he had
spent, I paid it to him. That is all. I think the House can hardly
avoid to see that my effort was made to discontinue an
unconstitutional proceeding."</p>
<p>Sir James Deering asked the question. "He trusted," he said, "that
the House would not think that the question of which he had given
notice and which he was about to ask was instigated by any personal
desire on his part to inquire into the conduct of the Prime Minister.
He was one who believed that the Duke of Omnium was as little likely
as any man in England to offend by unconstitutional practice on his
own part. But a great deal had been talked and written lately about
the late election at Silverbridge, and there were those who
thought,—and he was one of them,—that something should be said to
stop the mouths of cavillers. With this object he would ask the Right
Honourable Gentleman who led the House, and who was perhaps first in
standing among the noble Duke's colleagues in that House, whether the
noble Duke was prepared to have any statement on the subject made."</p>
<p>The House was full to the very corners of the galleries. Of course it
was known to everybody that the question was to be asked and to be
answered. There were some who thought that the matter was so serious
that the Prime Minister could not get over it. Others had heard in
the clubs that Lady Glen, as the Duchess was still called, was to be
made the scapegoat. Men of all classes were open-mouthed in their
denunciation of the meanness of Lopez,—though no one but Mr. Wharton
knew half his villainy, as he alone knew that the expenses had been
paid twice over. In one corner of the reporters' gallery sat Mr.
Slide, pencil in hand, prepared to revert to his old work on so
momentous an occasion. It was a great day for him. He by his own
unassisted energy had brought a Prime Minister to book, and had
created all this turmoil. It might be his happy lot to be the means
of turning that Prime Minister out of office. It was he who had
watched over the nation! The Duchess had been most anxious to be
present,—but had not ventured to come without asking her husband's
leave, which he had most peremptorily refused to give. "I cannot
understand, Glencora, how you can suggest such a thing," he had said.</p>
<p>"You make so much of everything," she had replied petulantly; but she
had remained at home. The ladies' gallery was, however, quite full.
Mrs. Finn was there, of course, anxious not only for her friend, but
eager to hear how her husband would acquit himself in his task. The
wives and daughters of all the ministers were there,—excepting the
wife of the Prime Minister. There never had been, in the memory of
them all, a matter that was so interesting to them, for it was the
only matter they remembered in which a woman's conduct might probably
be called in question in the House of Commons. And the seats
appropriated to peers were so crammed that above a dozen grey-headed
old lords were standing in the passage which divides them from the
common strangers. After all it was not, in truth, much of an affair.
A very little man indeed had calumniated the conduct of a minister of
the Crown, till it had been thought well that the minister should
defend himself. No one really believed that the Duke had committed
any great offence. At the worst it was no more than indiscretion,
which was noticeable only because a Prime Minister should never be
indiscreet. Had the taxation of the whole country for the next year
been in dispute, there would have been no such interest felt. Had the
welfare of the Indian Empire occupied the House, the House would have
been empty. But the hope that a certain woman's name would have to be
mentioned, crammed it from the floor to the ceiling.</p>
<p>The reader need not be told that that name was not mentioned. Our old
friend Phineas, on rising to his legs, first apologised for doing so
in place of the Chancellor of the Exchequer. But perhaps the House
would accept a statement from him, as the noble Duke at the head of
the Government had asked him to make it. Then he made his statement.
"Perhaps," he said, "no falser accusation than this had ever been
brought forward against a minister of the Crown, for it specially
charged his noble friend with resorting to the employment of
unconstitutional practices to bolster up his parliamentary support,
whereas it was known by everybody that there would have been no
matter for accusation at all had not the Duke of his own motion
abandoned a recognised privilege, because, in his opinion, the
exercise of that privilege was opposed to the spirit of the
Constitution. Had the noble Duke simply nominated a candidate, as
candidates had been nominated at Silverbridge for centuries past,
that candidate would have been returned with absolute certainty, and
there would have been no word spoken on the subject. It was not,
perhaps, for him, who had the honour of serving under his Grace, and
who, as being a part of his Grace's Government, was for the time one
with his Grace, to expatiate at length on the nobility of the
sacrifice here made. But they all knew there at what rate was valued
a seat in that House. Thank God that privilege could not now be rated
at any money price. It could not be bought and sold. But this
privilege which his noble friend had so magnanimously resigned from
purely patriotic motives, was, he believed, still in existence, and
he would ask those few who were still in the happy, or, perhaps, he
had better say in the envied, position of being able to send their
friends to that House, what was their estimation of the conduct of
the Duke in this matter? It might be that there were one or two such
present, and who now heard him,—or, perhaps, one or two who owed
their seats to the exercise of such a privilege. They might marvel at
the magnitude of the surrender. They might even question the sagacity
of the man who could abandon so much without a price. But he hardly
thought that even they would regard it as unconstitutional.</p>
<p>"This was what the Prime Minister had done,—acting not as Prime
Minister, but as an English nobleman, in the management of his own
property and privileges. And now he would come to the gist of the
accusation made; in making which, the thing which the Duke had really
done had been altogether ignored. When the vacancy had been declared
by the acceptance of the Chiltern Hundreds by a gentleman whose
absence from the House they all regretted, the Duke had signified to
his agents his intention of retiring altogether from the exercise of
any privilege or power in the matter. But the Duke was then, as he
was also now, and would, it was to be hoped, long continue to be,
Prime Minister of England. He need hardly remind gentlemen in that
House that the Prime Minister was not in a position to devote his
undivided time to the management of his own property, or even to the
interests of the Borough of Silverbridge. That his Grace had been
earnest in his instructions to his agents, the sequel fully proved;
but that earnestness his agents had misinterpreted."</p>
<p>Then there was heard a voice in the House, "What agents?" and from
another voice, "Name them." For there were present some who thought
it to be shameful that the excitement of the occasion should be
lowered by keeping back all allusion to the Duchess.</p>
<p>"I have not distinguished," said Phineas, assuming an indignant tone,
"the honourable gentlemen from whom those questions have come, and
therefore I have the less compunction in telling them that it is no
part of my duty on this occasion to gratify a morbid and an indecent
curiosity." Then there was a cry of "Order," and an appeal to the
Speaker. Certain gentlemen wished to know whether indecent was
parliamentary. The Speaker, with some hesitation, expressed his
opinion that the word, as then used, was not open to objection from
him. He thought that it was within the scope of a member's rights to
charge another member with indecent curiosity. "If," said Phineas,
rising again to his legs, for he had sat down for a moment, "the
gentleman who called for a name will rise in his place and repeat the
demand, I will recall the word indecent and substitute another,—or
others. I will tell him that he is one who, regardless of the real
conduct of the Prime Minister, either as a man or as a servant of the
Crown, is only anxious to inflict an unmanly wound in order that he
may be gratified by seeing the pain which he inflicts." Then he
paused, but as no further question was asked, he continued his
statement. "A candidate had been brought forward," he said, "by those
interested in the Duke's affairs. A man whom he would not name, but
who, he trusted, would never succeed in his ambition to occupy a seat
in that House, had been brought forward, and certain tradesmen in
Silverbridge had been asked to support him as the Duke's nominee.
There was no doubt about it. The House perhaps could understand that
the local adherents and neighbours of a man so high in rank and
wealth as the Duke of Omnium would not gladly see the privileges of
their lord diminished. Perhaps, too, it occurred to them that a Prime
Minister could not have his eye everywhere. There would always be
worthy men in boroughs who liked to exercise some second-hand
authority. At any rate it was the case that this candidate was
encouraged. Then the Duke had heard it, and had put his foot upon the
little mutiny, and had stamped it out at once. He might perhaps
here," he said, "congratulate the House on the acquisition it had
received by the failure of that candidate. So far, at any rate," he
thought, "it must be admitted that the Duke had been free from
blame;—but now he came to the gravamen of the charge." The gravamen
of the charge is so well known to the reader that the simple account
which Phineas gave of it need not be repeated. The Duke had paid the
money, when asked for it, because he felt that the man had been
injured by incorrect representations made to him. "I need hardly
pause to stigmatise the meanness of that application," said Phineas,
"but I may perhaps conclude by saying that whether the last act done
by the Duke in this matter was or was not indiscreet, I shall
probably have the House with me when I say that it savours much more
strongly of nobility than of indiscretion."</p>
<p>When Phineas Finn sat down no one arose to say another word on the
subject. It was afterwards felt that it would only have been graceful
had Sir Orlando risen and expressed his opinion that the House had
heard the statement just made with perfect satisfaction. But he did
not do so, and after a short pause the ordinary business of the day
was recommenced. Then there was a speedy descent from the galleries,
and the ladies trooped out of their cage, and the grey-headed old
peers went back to their own chamber, and the members themselves
quickly jostled out through the doors, and Mr. Monk was left to
explain his proposed alteration in the dog tax to a thin House of
seventy or eighty members.</p>
<p>The thing was then over, and people were astonished that so great a
thing should be over with so little fuss. It really seemed that after
Phineas Finn's speech there was nothing more to be said on the
matter. Everybody of course knew that the Duchess had been the chief
of the agents to whom he had alluded, but they had known as much as
that before. It was, however, felt by everybody that the matter had
been brought to an end. The game, such as it was, had been played
out. Perhaps the only person who heard Mr. Finn's speech throughout,
and still hoped that the spark could be again fanned into a flame,
was Quintus Slide. He went out and wrote another article about the
Duchess. If a man was so unable to rule his affairs at home, he was
certainly unfit to be Prime Minister. But even Quintus Slide, as he
wrote his article, felt that he was hoping against hope. The charge
might be referred to hereafter as one that had never been
satisfactorily cleared up. That game is always open to the opponents
of a minister. After the lapse of a few months an old accusation can
be serviceably used, whether at the time it was proved or disproved.
Mr. Slide published his article, but he felt that for the present the
Silverbridge election papers had better be put by among the
properties of the "People's Banner," and brought out, if necessary,
for further use at some future time.</p>
<p>"Mr. Finn," said the Duke, "I feel indebted to you for the trouble
you have taken."</p>
<p>"It was only a pleasant duty."</p>
<p>"I am grateful to you for the manner in which it was performed." This
was all the Duke said, and Phineas felt it to be cold. The Duke, in
truth, was grateful; but gratitude with him always failed to exhibit
itself readily. From the world at large Phineas Finn received great
praise for the manner in which he had performed his task.</p>
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