A faint smile played round the lips of the old Duke.
“Yes, bribery and corruption are the lawful methods by which our House of Commons is returned by the country, save where there are rotten or pocket boroughs to be given by favour, or openly bought and sold; and when these last are done away with, and more contests set on foot, there will be more bribery and corruption, rioting and drunkenness, than ever, and this will be the first step of the great reform.”
“Yes, but only the first step,” answered Eustace eagerly. “After that step will follow others for the purifying of these contests, and the rectifying of these flagrant abuses. Some great men say it can and will be done by establishing a system of ballot-voting, by which no man may know how his neighbour votes, so that a deathblow will be dealt to bribery.”
“Will it?” questioned the Duke significantly.
“Yes,” was the fearless answer, “because men will learn to see the worse than folly of bribing a man who can pocket the bribe, take one from his opponent, and then go perfectly free and unfettered to vote as he pleases! The thing will die a natural death as a matter of course. It may die hard, but die it must.”
“Yes, it will die in its open form. Votes will no longer be bought at so much a head; but mark my word, Eustace, a more corrupt and iniquitous form of bribery will creep slowly and surely upon the country. Governments will outbid each other with promises of measures which will appeal to the selfish and self-seeking passions of the people, just to get into power, quite apart from true statesmanship or the true good of the nation. There will be one long struggle after popularity with the unthinking masses—one long bribing of them by a wholesale system of promises, more or less faithfully carried out, which will corrupt the nation to the core as the old bribery has never corrupted it. Don’t tell me, boy! I have lived longer than you. I know human nature. An inducement—a bribe—men will have; and the bribe will now be of increased power, increased franchise, increased ability to levy taxes which those who levy them will not pay—a system of legalised robbery, which will sooner or later bring the country to ruin. Ah! yes, you smile. You think I am a croaker and a pessimist. Well, well, well—thank God, I shall not live to see the day; but that day will come for England before many generations have passed, when she will be groaning beneath the burden laid upon her by her reformers, but absolutely unable to break that increasing yoke from off her neck. Men may rise up in arms against their tyrants when their tyrant is a monarch; but when they are their own tyrants, their own legislators, their own oppressors, where are they to find redress?”
Eustace made no attempt to reply. The Duke was talking a language incomprehensible to him and absurd. Even argument seemed thrown away here; yet all the while he respected the sincerity and the character of the man before him, and he answered with a smile—
“Well, uncle, if we cannot agree as to the outcome of these measures, at least we can agree to differ, and we can each pocket our little bit of inconsistency with a quiet conscience. You will give me the seat, whilst holding that eventual ill will come from the cause I advocate; and I will profit by an abuse to do away with that abuse. I think it comes pretty much to this: we both know that this first step is inevitable, therefore you cease to fight against it, whilst I seek to help to forward it by every wise and right method. There are many men in the country more ‘advanced’ than I, and I have a dread of rash precipitation. I think I shall do good and not harm even to your cause by my voice. I shall certainly take warning by your words, and be always on the side of moderation.”
“You shall have the seat,” said the Duke, “because you are my next of kin, and because I respect you as a man, if I do not agree with you as a politician. In the course of nature you will not long be able to sit in the House of Commons; and since your heart is set upon it, I will give you the chance this time. You can choose which you will do—accept the seat I have at my disposal—getting in by an abuse; or I will give my seat to the Tory member for Pentreath, and put you up in his place and give you my influence there. Pentreath has hitherto always returned a Tory candidate, and Sir Roland Menteith is a very popular man locally—you would have no chance against him; but if I gave him my seat, and you stepped forward as the Reform candidate—a moderate reformer supported by the Penarvon interest, you might stand an excellent chance. There would certainly be another Tory adversary put up against you, but I know of no man likely to be popular. The people of the place have become strongly leavened by the spirit of the day, and my influence would go far to turn the scale with a great many. You can think it over and do as you will. Personally you have no influence, or little here; but as a Marchmont and the future Duke, you would have a good deal. There would be expenses of course—we could talk about that later. I do not seek to persuade you to anything; I only tell you what I will do for you if you prefer to contest a seat rather than get one by an abuse. You can think it quietly over, and decide at your leisure. Sir Roland is dining here in a week’s time. He always comes to see me after his return from Westminster to give me all the news. We can talk the matter over with him then.”
