The address from which I write to you is familiar in the public ear in
connection with a long series which, such is the ignorance of mankind, I
have heard described as petulant, querulous, self-adulatory notes. I
have often wondered that it has not occurred to any one to notice the
singular appropriateness of the name of my humble home. It is not for
me, at my time of life, to claim anything like prescience of affairs. I
may have been right in my views of the succeeding events of the past
half-century, or I may have been wrong. I will just mention that my
friend, T-NN-S-N, who has a pretty faculty for poetry, once summed me up
in a couplet which I venture to think is not without its charm. "J-HN
BR-GHT," he wrote--
J-HN BR-GHT
Is always right.
He told me in confidence that he had at one time contemplated a
eulogistic poem of some seventy or eighty lines, price to the
_Nineteenth Century_ a guinea each. But, having thrown off this couplet,
it appeared in itself so sufficient, so comprehensive yet so precise,
that amplification would have rather reduced than increased its value.
Therefore it remains a brilliant fragment.
But I am wandering from the theme, which, in the present instance, is
not myself but my country address. What I thought might be interesting
to point out is the curious felicity of the nomenclature, and the
remarkable foresight of which it is proof. More than a generation ago it
received this singular appellation. At that time nothing seemed more
remote from ordinary apprehension than that in this year I should be
what we call "a Unionist," an ally and supporter of Lord S-L-B-RY,
pulling in the same boat as the H-M-LT-NS, and marching shoulder to
shoulder with ASHM-D B-RTL-TT. In those days I was wont to pour forth
torrents of angry contempt upon the Conservative party. D-SR-LI was my
wash-pot, over the Markiss I cast out my shoe; but even then my address
was One Ash, Rochdale. Do you begin to see what I mean? One Empire, One
Parliament, One Ash! Some of my old colleagues and disciples among the
Radicals scoff at me because of my new companions. But, as usual, I have
been right from the first. _I_ have always been what the _Marchioness_
called a "wonner." What has happened is that the Liberal Party and my
old companions have moved away from me, whilst the Conservatives have
moved towards me. I am the same to-day as yesterday, or as these fifty
years past. "J-HN BR-GHT, always right," and any change of relationship
or appearance is due to the ineradicable error and fatal foolishness of
others.
What I feel, dear TOBY, in reviewing a long and honourable life, is the
terrible feeling of monotony. I sometimes find myself envying ordinary
men like GL-DST-NE, who, looking back over their past life, can put
their hand down and say, "There I blundered, there I was misled by
circumstances." For a long time GL-DST-NE kept pretty straight--that is
to say I agreed with him. But he has gone wrong lamentably on this Irish
Question, and all the righteous acts of his life--that is to say, steps
in which he has chanced to walk in time with me--are obliterated. It is
true that, at one time, it was I who was the foremost Apostle of Irish
National feeling. At this date people with inconvenient memories are
constantly raking up passages in my speeches about Ireland, and the
English yoke which, except that they are too finely cut, and of too
noble a style of eloquence, would exactly suit GL-DST-NE to-day. I said
these things then, it is true, and then they were right. I do not say
them to-day, and therefore they are wrong. _Quod erat demonstrandum._
(You will observe that since, with a distinguished friend, I have joined
the political company of gentlemen, I have forsaken my old habit of
keeping to the Saxon tongue, and sometimes, as here, I drop into Latin.
Occasionally I fall into French. _Autres temps, autres moeurs._)
My nearest approach to human frailty, is, perhaps, to be found in a
certain measure of absence of suavity. It is perhaps possible that my
temper was,--I will not say soured, but--not sweetened by the vile
attacks made upon me personally by Irish Members in Parliament during
the last ten years. You remember what B-NT-NCK said about me? I don't
mean Big Ben, or Little Ben, but Lord GEORGE B-NT-NCK. "If BR-GHT," he
said, "had not been a Quaker, he would have been a prize-fighter." I
think there is about the remark some suspicion of lack of respect. But,
also, it is not without some foundation of truth. I admit an impulse to
strike back when I am hit; sometimes when I am not. Through two
Parliaments the ragged regiment that live upon the contributions of
their poor relations in domestic service in the United States have
girded at me in the House of Commons. This was my reward for the
rhetorical services I did for Ireland a quarter of a century ago. They
pummelled me, kicked me, dragged my honoured name in the dust, and spat
upon me in the market-place. That gross ingratitude I could never
forgive, and if in reprisal, the cause I once advocated suffers, can I
be held blameable?
But this seems to be running into the groove of apology, and I never
apologised to anyone for anything in my life. For fear I should begin
now, I will close this letter, remaining, Your friend, J-HN BR-GHT.
P.S.--I observe that in my haste I have not called you a fool, or
directly stigmatised as such anyone alluded to in this letter. I am
afraid this will be regarded as a sign of growing weakness. But I will
bring up the average in the next letter I write for publication.
* * * * *
[Illustration: DARWINIAN ANCESTOR
_Composing the Song, "For O it is such a Norrible Tail!!"_
"Our ancestor was an animal which breathed water, had a
swim-bladder, a great swimming tail, and an imperfect
skull."--_Darwin to Lyell._]
[Illustration: THE BABES IN THE CHRISTMAS WOOD. "The Cry is still they
come!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: PUTTING _HIS_ FOOT IN IT.
_She._ "AND DO YOU STILL SQUEEZE UP THE LADIES' FEET IN YOUR COUNTRY?"
_He._ "ON THE CONTRARY, MADAM! THAT IS A _CHINESE_ CUSTOM. WE IN JAPAN
ALWAYS ALLOW THE LADIES' FEET TO GROW TO QUITE THEIR FULL SIZE. NOT THAT
ANY WOULD EVER RIVAL _YOURS_, MADAM!"
[_Is delighted with his neat little Compliment!_]
* * * * *