parliamentary position. Now, however, —now
that Phineas had consented to join the Government,
any such considerations as these must be laid aside.
He could no longer be a free agent, or even a free
thinker. He had been quite aware of this, and
had taught himself to understand that members of Parliament
in the direct service of the Government were absolved
from the necessity of free-thinking. Individual
free-thinking was incompatible with the position of
a member of the Government, and unless such abnegation
were practised, no government would be possible.
It was of course a man’s duty to bind himself
together with no other men but those with whom, on
matters of general policy, he could agree heartily;—but
having found that he could so agree, he knew that it
would be his duty as a subaltern to vote as he was
directed. It would trouble his conscience less
to sit for Loughton and vote for an objectionable
clause as a member of the Government, than it would
have done to give such a vote as an independent member.
In so resolving, he thought that he was simply acting
in accordance with the acknowledged rules of parliamentary
government. And therefore, when Lord Brentford
spoke of Clause 72, he could answer pleasantly, “I
think we shall carry it; and, you see, in getting
it through committee, if we can carry it by one, that
is as good as a hundred. That’s the comfort
of close-fighting in committee. In the open House
we are almost as much beaten by a narrow majority
as by a vote against us.”
“Just so; just so,” said Lord Brentford,
delighted to see that his young pupil,—as
he regarded him,—understood so well the
system of parliamentary management. “By-the-bye,
Finn, have you seen Chiltern lately?”
“Not quite lately,” said Phineas, blushing
up to his eyes.
“Or heard from him?”
“No;—nor heard from him. When
last I heard of him he was in Brussels.”
“Ah,—yes; he is somewhere on the
Rhine now. I thought that as you were so intimate,
perhaps you corresponded with him. Have you heard
that we have arranged about Lady Laura’s money?”
“I have heard. Lady Laura has told me.”
“I wish he would return,” said Lord Brentford
sadly,—almost solemnly. “As
that great difficulty is over, I would receive him
willingly, and make my house pleasant to him, if I
can do so. I am most anxious that he should settle,
and marry. Could you not write to him?”
Phineas, not daring to tell Lord Brentford that he
had quarrelled with Lord Chiltern,—feeling
that if he did so everything would go wrong,—said
that he would write to Lord Chiltern.
As he went away he felt that he was bound to get an
answer from Violet Effingham. If it should be
necessary, he was willing to break with Lord Brentford
on that matter,—even though such breaking
should lose him his borough and his place;—but
not on any other matter.
CHAPTER XLIV