“What, a clerkship?”—I said, ruefully, having hitherto affected to despise all the race of her Majesty’s quill drivers, from Horner downwards.
“Yes, sir,”—she said,—“‘a clerkship;’ and a very good thing, too! You need not turn up your nose at it, Master Frank; I can see you, although I do wear glasses! Grander men than you think yourself, sir, have not despised such an opening! Here is the vicar,”—she added, as her brother walked into the room.—“How lucky! we can ask him now.”
The vicar overheard her remark.
“Hullo, Frank!” said he; “what is it, that Sally and you are conspiring together? Can I do anything for you, my boy?”—he continued, in his nice kind way,—“if so, only ask me; and if it is in my power, you know that I will do it.”
“He wishes to get into a Government office; don’t you think you could help him?” said Miss Pimpernell.
“You want to be in harness, my boy, eh?”—said the vicar, turning to me.—“That’s right, Frank. Literature will come on, in due course, all in good time. There’s nothing like having regular work to do, however trifling. It not only gives you a daily object in life, but also steadies your mind, causing you better to appreciate higher intellectual employment! I thought, however, my boy, that you looked down on ‘Her Majesty’s hard bargains,’ as poor Government clerks are somewhat unjustly termed?”
“That was, because I thought they were a pack of idlers, doing nothing, and earning a menial salary for it. ‘Playing from ten to to four, like the fountains in Trafalgar Square,’ as Punch declares,” I said.
“Ah!” said the vicar, “that is a mistake, as you will soon find out when you belong to their body. They do work, and well, too. Many of the grand things on which departmental ministers pride themselves—and get the credit, too, of effecting by their own unaided efforts—are really achieved by the plodding office hacks, who work on unrecognised in our midst! Our whole public service is a blunder, my boy. There is no effective rise given in it to talent or merit, as is the case in other official circles. The ‘big men,’ who are appointed for political purposes, get on, it is true; but, the ‘little men,’ who labour from year’s end to year’s end, like horses in a mill, never have a chance of distinguishing themselves. When they are of a certain age, and attain a particular height in their office, they become superannuated, and retire; for, should a vacancy occur, of a higher standing in the public secretariat, it is not given to them—although the training of their whole life may peculiarly fit them for the post! No, it is bestowed on some young political adherent of the party then in power, who may be as unacquainted with the duties connected with the position, as I am ignorant of double fluxions! This naturally disgusts men with the service; and, that is why you generally hear Government offices spoken of as playgrounds for idle youths, who enter them to saunter through life—on the strength of the constituent-influence of their fathers on the seats of budding MP’s.”
“I really thought they never worked,” said I. “There’s Horner, for instance. You don’t suppose, sir, that he confers such inestimable benefit on his country by his daily avocations in Downing Street?”
“Ah, poor Jack Horner!” laughed the vicar; “he’s really not very bright. But, we need not be so uncharitable as to think that he does not do his money’s worth for his money! He writes a beautiful hand, you know; and, I dare say, his mere services as a copying machine are of some value. Government clerks do not all play every day, Frank:—you will, I’m sure, find plenty to do, if you go into office life. I remember, in the time of the Crimean war, that a friend of mine, employed in the Admiralty at Whitehall, used to have to stop up every alternate night at his office, the whole night through; and this was the case, too, at all the other public departments! The clerks in each room were obliged to take it in turn for night duty; while, those who were free to go home—and they did not leave work until long after the traditional ‘four o’clock’ on most days—had to specify where they could be found every evening, in case they should be suddenly wanted on the arrival of despatches from the seat of war. Of course this state of affairs is not ordinary; still, Government clerks are not idlers as a body:—on the contrary, you will find them thorough working-men.”