“But were I to speak my mind more candidly, I 'd even say, let the borough go after the county; and for this plain reason,” said Repton, speaking with increased firmness and animation, “you neither seek for the ambition of political life, nor want to make a trade of its casualties.”
“Is it not possible, sir, that we might desire the natural influence that should arise out of our station in society and our rank in this county?” said Lady Dorothea, proudly.
“And your Ladyship has it, and can never lose it. Having a vote or two to throw into a Ministerial division would never repay you for the anxieties and cares of contested elections. Ah, my Lady, what do you care for the small flatteries of London attentions?”
“We should have these, sir, as our right,” broke she in.
“To be sure you would, and much happiness do I hope they would confer,” added he, in a tone only overheard by Martin; then continued aloud: “As to the patronage at your disposal, would you take a present of it? Whom do you want to make tide-waiters, gaugers, barony-constables, or even clerks of the peace? Of all men living, who is so free of hungry dependants or poor relations!”
“I must say, sir, that you reduce the question of political support to a very intelligible one of material benefit,” said her Ladyship, with a sneer; “but, just for argument sake, imagine that there should be such a thing as a little principle in the matter.”
“I'm going to that part of the case, my Lady,” said Repton. “Martin is a Tory; now, what are the men coming into power? I wish you could tell me. Here, for instance, is one of their own journals,”—and he opened a newspaper and ran his eye over the columns,—“ay, here it is: 'With regard to Ireland, Lord Reckington's appointment as Viceroy is the best guarantee that the rights of Irishmen of every persuasion and every denomination will be respected.' So far so good;” and he read on in a low, humdrum voice for some minutes, till he came to the following: “'No privileged class will any longer be tolerated; no exceptional loyalty admitted as an excuse for insufferable oppression and tyranny; the wishes and benefits of the people—the real people of that country—will at length enter into the views of an administration; and Ireland as she is,—not the possible Ireland of factious enthusiasts,—be governed by men determined to redress her grievances and improve her capacities.' Now, Martin, you want no augur to interpret that oracle. They are going to rule you by the people; but the people must be represented.
“Now, who represents them? Not the demagogue; he is merely their tool. The real representative is the priest; don't laugh, my dear friend, at such a shadowy possibility; the thing is nearer than you dream of. No administration ever yet tried to govern Ireland except by intimidation. The Beresfords were undertakers once, and they did their work very well, let me tell you; they advanced their friends and whipped their enemies; and what with peerages for one set, and pitched caps for the other, they ruled Ireland. Then there came the Orangemen, who rather blundered their work; there were too many heads amongst them, and the really clever fellows were overborne by brawling, talkative fools, who always had the masses with them because they were fools. Still they ruled Ireland. They preserved the country to the King's crown; and I say once more, that was no small matter. And now we have arrived at a new era; we have obtained Emancipation, and must look out for another stamp of administrators, and I see nothing for it but the priest. Of course you, and every man of your station, sneer at the notion of being dictated to by Father Luke, in the greasy leather small-clothes and dirty black boots,—only, himself, a cottier once removed, a plant of the wild growth of the fields, cultivated, however, in the hotbeds of Maynooth,—a forcing-house whose fruits you are yet to taste of! Sneer away, Martin; but my name is not Val Repton if those men do not rule Ireland yet! Ay, sir, and rule it in such a fashion as your haughty Beresfords and Tottenhams, and Tisdalls never dreamed of! They 'll treat with the Government on equal terms,—so much, for so much; and, what's more, it won't be higgling for a place here, or a peerage there; but they'll have the price paid down in hard legislative coin,—Acts of Parliament, sir; privileges for themselves and their order, benefits to 'the Church;' and, when nothing better or more tempting offers, insults and slights to their antagonists. You, and all like you, will be passed over as if you never existed; the minister will not need you; you'll be so many general officers on the retired list, and only remarked when you swell the crowd at a levee.”
“So, sir, according to this special prediction of yours, we have nothing left us but to live on our estates, enjoy what we can of our fortunes, and leave the interests of the nation to those our inferiors in rank, station, and property?”
“Such a period as your Ladyship has pictured forth—a little strongly, perhaps—is before you. Whether the interval be destined to be long or short, will, in great measure, depend upon yourselves.”