“Ay, sir,” said Repton, as, leaning on the other's arm, he entered the drawing-room, “a wiser man than either of us has left it on record, that after a long life and much experience of the world, he met far more of good and noble qualities in mankind than of their opposite. Take my word for it, whenever we are inclined to the contrary opinion, the fault lies with ourselves.”
While they sat awaiting Massingbred's return, a servant entered with a note, which Nelligan, having read, handed over to Repton. It was very brief, and ran thus:—
“My dear Mr. Nelligan,—Forgive my not appearing at dinner, and make my excuses to Mr. Repton, if he be with you, for I have just fallen in with Magennis, who insists on carrying me off to Barnagheela. You can understand, I 'm sure, that there are reasons why I could not well decline this invitation. Meanwhile, till to-morrow, at breakfast,
“I am yours,
“Jack Massingbred.”
If there was a little constraint on Nelligan's part at finding himself alone to do the honors to his distinguished guest, the feeling soon wore away, and a frank, hearty confidence was soon established between these two men, who up to the present moment had been following very different roads in life. Apart from a lurking soreness, the remnants of long-past bitterness, Nelligan's political opinions were fair and moderate, and agreed with Repton's now to a great extent. His views as to the people, their habits and their natures, were also strikingly just and true. He was not over-hopeful, nor was he despondent; too acute an observer to refer their faults to any single source, he regarded their complex, intricate characters as the consequence of many causes, the issue of many struggles. There was about all he said the calm judgment of a man desirous of truth; and yet, when he came to speak of the higher classes, the great country gentry, he displayed prejudices and mistakes quite incredible in one of his discernment. The old grudge of social disqualification had eaten deep into his heart, and, as Repton saw, it would take at least two generations of men, well-to-do and successful, to eradicate the sentiment.
Nelligan was quick enough to see that these opinions of his were not shared by his guest, and said, “I cannot expect, Mr. Repton, that you will join me in these views; you have seen these people always as an equal, if not their superior; they met you with their best faces and sweetest flatteries. Not so with us. They draw a line, as though to say, go on: make your fortunes; purchase estates; educate your children; send them to the universities with our own; teach them our ways, our instincts, our manners, and yet, at the end of all, you shall remain exactly where you began. You shall never be 'of us.'”
“I am happy to say that I disagree with you,” said Repton; “I am a much older man than you, and I can draw, therefore, on a longer experience. Now the change that I myself have seen come over the tone and temper of the world since I was a boy is far more marvellous to me than all the new-fangled discoveries around us in steam and electricity. Why, sir, the man who now addresses you, born of an ancient stock, as good blood as any untitled gentleman of the land, was treated once as Jack Cade might be in a London drawing-room. The repute of liberal notions or politics at that day stamped you as a democrat and atheist If you sided with a popular measure, you were deemed capable of all the crimes of a 'Danton.'
“Do I not remember it!—Ay, as a student, young, ardent, and high-hearted, when I was summoned before the visitors of the university, and sternly asked by the dark-browed Lord Chancellor if I belonged to a society called the 'Friends of Ireland,' and on my acknowledging the fact, without inquiry, without examination, deprived of my scholarship, and sent back to my chambers, admonished to be more cautious, and menaced with expulsion. I had very little to live on in those days; my family had suffered great losses in fortune, and I disliked to be a burden to them. I took pupils, therefore, to assist me in my support. The Vice-Provost stepped in, however, and interdicted this. 'Young men,' he said, 'ran a greater chance of coming out of my hands followers of Paine than disciples of Newton.' I starved on till I was called to the bar. There fresh insults and mortifications met me. My name on a brief seemed a signal for a field-day against Jacobinism and infidelity. The very bench forgot its dignity in its zeal. I remember well one day, when, stung and maddened by these outrages, I so far forgot myself as to reply, and the Court of King's Bench was closed against me for twelve long years,—ay, till I came back to it as the first man in my profession. It was a trumpery cause,—I forget what; a suit about some petty bill of exchange. I disputed the evidence, and sought to show its invalidity. The Chief Justice stopped me, and said, 'The Court is aware of the point on which you rely; we have known evidence of this nature admitted in cases of trial for treason,—cases with which Mr. Repton, we know, is very familiar. I stopped; my blood boiled with indignation, my temples throbbed to bursting, to be thus singled out amongst my brethren—before the public—as a mark of scorn and reprobation. 'It is true, my Lord,' said I, with a slow, measured utterance, 'I am familiar with such cases. Who is there in this unhappy land that is not? I am aware, too, that if I stood in that dock arraigned on such a charge, your Lordship would rule that this evidence was admissible; you would charge against me, sentence, and hang me; but the present is an action for eleven pounds ten, and, therefore, I trust to your Lordship's lenity and mercy to reject it.'
“That reply, sir, cost me twelve years of exile from the court wherein I uttered it. Those were times when the brow-beating judge could crush the bar; nor were the jury always safe in the sanctuary of the jury-box. Now, such abuses are no longer in existence; and if we have made no other stride in progress, even that is considerable.”