"Well, what is the chance?"
"The House, Dick. The working-men will send you there, if you can show them that you've got something in you. It isn't froth they want—it's a practical man, with knowledge. You go on reading, go on speaking, go on debating. Keep it up. Get your name known; don't demean yourself. Get reported; and learn all that there is to learn. Once in the House, Dick, if you are not afraid——"
"I shall not be afraid."
"Humph! Well, we shall see. Well, there's your chance. A working-man's candidate—one of ourselves. That's a card for you to play; but not so ignorant as your mates. Eh? Able (if you want) to use the swell's sneerin' talk—so's to call a man a liar, without sayin' the words. To make him feel like a fool and a whipped cur, with just showing your white teeth! Learn them ways, Dick—they'll be useful."
"But if," said the young man doubtfully, "if I am to keep on debating, what subjects shall we take up at the club?"
"I should go in for practical subjects. Say that the club is ready to vote for the abolition of the Lords and the Church, and reform of the land laws when the time comes. You haven't got the choice of subjects that we had. Lord! what with rotten boroughs and the black Book of Pensions, and younger sons, and favoritism in the service, why, our hands were full."
"What practical subjects?"
"Why, them as your cousin talked about. There's the wages of the girls—there's food and fish and drink. There's high rent—there's a world of subjects. You go, and find out all about them. Give up the rest for a spell, and make yourself master of all these questions. If you do, Dick, I believe your fortune is made."
Dick looked doubtful—it seemed disheartening to be sent back to the paltry matter of wages, prices, and so on, when he was burning to lead in something great. Yet the advice was sound.
"Sometimes I think, Dick," the old man went on, "that the working-man's best friend would be the swells, if they could be got hold of. They've got nothing to make out of the artisan. They don't run factories, nor keep shops. They don't care, bless you, how high his wages are. Why should they? They've got their farmers to pay the rent; and their houses, and their money in the funds. What does it matter to them? They're well brought up, most of them—civil in their manner, and disposed to be friendly if you're neither standoffish nor familiar; but know yourself, and talk accordin'."