MR. DAUBENY'S GREAT MOVE.
The whole Liberal party was taken very much by surprise at the course
which the election ran. Or perhaps it might be more proper to say
that the parliamentary leaders of the party were surprised. It had
not been recognised by them as necessary that the great question of
Church and State should be generally discussed on this occasion. It
was a matter of course that it should be discussed at some places,
and by some men. Eager Dissenters would, of course, take advantage
of the opportunity to press their views, and no doubt the entire
abolition of the Irish Church as a State establishment had taught
Liberals to think and Conservatives to fear that the question would
force itself forward at no very distant date. But it had not been
expected to do so now. The general incompetence of a Ministry who
could not command a majority on any measure was intended to be the
strong point of the Liberal party, not only at the election, but at
the meeting of Parliament. The Church question, which was necessarily
felt by all statesmen to be of such magnitude as to dwarf every
other, was not wanted as yet. It might remain in the background as
the future standing-point for some great political struggle, in which
it would be again necessary that every Liberal should fight, as
though for life, with his teeth and nails. Men who ten years since
regarded almost with abhorrence, and certainly with distrust, the
idea of disruption between Church and State in England, were no
doubt learning to perceive that such disruption must come, and were
reconciling themselves to it after that slow, silent, inargumentative
fashion in which convictions force themselves among us. And from
reconciliation to the idea some were advancing to enthusiasm on its
behalf. "It is only a question of time," was now said by many who
hardly remembered how devoted they had been to the Established Church
of England a dozen years ago. But the fruit was not yet ripe, and the
leaders of the Liberal party by no means desired that it should be
plucked. They were, therefore, surprised, and but little pleased,
when they found that the question was more discussed than any other
on the hustings of enthusiastically political boroughs.
Barrington Erle was angry when he received the letter of Phineas
Finn. He was at that moment staying with the Duke of St. Bungay,
who was regarded by many as the only possible leader of the Liberal
party, should Mr. Gresham for any reason fail them. Indeed the old
Whigs, of whom Barrington Erle considered himself to be one, would
have much preferred the Duke to Mr. Gresham, had it been possible
to set Mr. Gresham aside. But Mr. Gresham was too strong to be set
aside; and Erle and the Duke, with all their brethren, were minded to
be thoroughly loyal to their leader. He was their leader, and not to
be loyal was, in their minds, treachery. But occasionally they feared
that the man would carry them whither they did not desire to go. In
the meantime heavy things were spoken of our poor friend, Finn.
"After all, that man is an ass," said Erle.
"If so, I believe you are altogether responsible for him," said the
Duke.
"Well, yes, in a measure; but not altogether. That, however, is a
long story. He has many good gifts. He is clever, good-tempered, and
one of the pleasantest fellows that ever lived. The women all like
him."
"So the Duchess tells me."
"But he is not what I call loyal. He cannot keep himself from running
after strange gods. What need had he to take up the Church question
at Tankerville? The truth is, Duke, the thing is going to pieces.
We get men into the House now who are clever, and all that sort
of thing, and who force their way up, but who can't be made to
understand that everybody should not want to be Prime Minister." The
Duke, who was now a Nestor among politicians, though very green in
his age, smiled as he heard remarks which had been familiar to him
for the last forty years. He, too, liked his party, and was fond of
loyal men; but he had learned at last that all loyalty must be built
on a basis of self-advantage. Patriotism may exist without it, but
that which Erle called loyalty in politics was simply devotion to the
side which a man conceives to be his side, and which he cannot leave
without danger to himself.
But if discontent was felt at the eagerness with which this subject
was taken up at certain boroughs, and was adopted by men whose votes
and general support would be essentially necessary to the would-be
coming Liberal Government, absolute dismay was occasioned by a speech
that was made at a certain county election. Mr. Daubeny had for many
years been member for East Barsetshire, and was as sure of his seat
as the Queen of her throne. No one would think of contesting Mr.
Daubeny's right to sit for East Barsetshire, and no doubt he might
have been returned without showing himself to the electors. But he
did show himself to the electors; and, as a matter of course, made
a speech on the occasion. It so happened that the day fixed for the
election in this division of the county was quite at the close of
this period of political excitement. When Mr. Daubeny addressed his
friends in East Barsetshire the returns throughout the kingdom were
nearly complete. No attention had been paid to this fact during the
elections, but it was afterwards asserted that the arrangement had
been made with a political purpose, and with a purpose which was
politically dishonest. Mr. Daubeny, so said the angry Liberals,
had not chosen to address his constituents till his speech at the
hustings could have no effect on other counties. Otherwise,--so said
the Liberals,--the whole Conservative party would have been called
upon to disavow at the hustings the conclusion to which Mr. Daubeny
hinted in East Barsetshire that he had arrived. The East Barsetshire
men themselves,--so said the Liberals,--had been too crass to catch
the meaning hidden under his ambiguous words; but those words, when
read by the light of astute criticism, were found to contain an
opinion that Church and State should be dissevered. "By G----! he's
going to take the bread out of our mouths again," said Mr. Ratler.
The speech was certainly very ambiguous, and I am not sure that the
East Barsetshire folk were so crass as they were accused of being,
in not understanding it at once. The dreadful hint was wrapped up in
many words, and formed but a small part of a very long oration. The
bucolic mind of East Barsetshire took warm delight in the eloquence
of the eminent personage who represented them, but was wont to
extract more actual enjoyment from the music of his periods than from
the strength of his arguments. When he would explain to them that
he had discovered a new, or rather hitherto unknown, Conservative
element in the character of his countrymen, which he could best
utilise by changing everything in the Constitution, he manipulated
his words with such grace, was so profound, so broad, and so exalted,
was so brilliant in mingling a deep philosophy with the ordinary
politics of the day, that the bucolic mind could only admire. It
was a great honour to the electors of that agricultural county that
they should be made the first recipients of these pearls, which
were not wasted by being thrown before them. They were picked up
by the gentlemen of the Press, and became the pearls, not of East
Barsetshire, but of all England. On this occasion it was found that
one pearl was very big, very rare, and worthy of great attention;
but it was a black pearl, and was regarded by many as an abominable
prodigy. "The period of our history is one in which it becomes
essential for us to renew those inquiries which have prevailed since
man first woke to his destiny, as to the amount of connection which
exists and which must exist between spiritual and simply human forms
of government,--between our daily religion and our daily politics,
between the Crown and the Mitre." The East Barsetshire clergymen and
the East Barsetshire farmers like to hear something of the mitre in
political speeches at the hustings. The word sounds pleasantly in
their ears, as appertaining to good old gracious times and good old
gracious things. As honey falls fast from the mouth of the practised
speaker, the less practised hearer is apt to catch more of the words
than of the sense. The speech of Mr. Daubeny was taken all in good
part by his assembled friends. But when it was read by the quidnuncs
on the following day it was found to contain so deep a meaning that
it produced from Mr. Ratler's mouth those words of fear which have
been already quoted.
Could it really be the case that the man intended to perform so
audacious a trick of legerdemain as this for the preservation of his
power, and that if he intended it he should have the power to carry
it through? The renewal of inquiry as to the connection which exists
between the Crown and the Mitre, when the bran was bolted, could only
mean the disestablishment of the Church. Mr. Ratler and his friends
were not long in bolting the bran. Regarding the matter simply in its
own light, without bringing to bear upon it the experience of the
last half-century, Mr. Ratler would have thought his party strong
enough to defy Mr. Daubeny utterly in such an attempt. The ordinary
politician, looking at Mr. Daubeny's position as leader of the
Conservative party, as a statesman depending on the support of the
Church, as a Minister appointed to his present place for the express
object of defending all that was left of old, and dear, and venerable
in the Constitution, would have declared that Mr. Daubeny was
committing political suicide, as to which future history would record
a verdict of probably not temporary insanity. And when the speech was
a week old this was said in many a respectable household through the
country. Many a squire, many a parson, many a farmer was grieved for
Mr. Daubeny when the words had been explained to him, who did not for
a moment think that the words could be portentous as to the great
Conservative party. But Mr. Ratler remembered Catholic emancipation,
had himself been in the House when the Corn Laws were repealed, and
had been nearly broken-hearted when household suffrage had become
the law of the land while a Conservative Cabinet and a Conservative
Government were in possession of dominion in Israel.
Mr. Bonteen was disposed to think that the trick was beyond the
conjuring power even of Mr. Daubeny. "After all, you know, there is
the party," he said to Mr. Ratler. Mr. Ratler's face was as good
as a play, and if seen by that party would have struck that party
with dismay and shame. The meaning of Mr. Ratler's face was plain
enough. He thought so little of that party, on the score either of
intelligence, honesty, or fidelity, as to imagine that it would
consent to be led whithersoever Mr. Daubeny might choose to lead
it. "If they care about anything, it's about the Church," said Mr.
Bonteen.
"There's something they like a great deal better than the Church,"
said Mr. Ratler. "Indeed, there's only one thing they care about at
all now. They've given up all the old things. It's very likely that
if Daubeny were to ask them to vote for pulling down the Throne and
establishing a Republic they'd all follow him into the lobby like
sheep. They've been so knocked about by one treachery after another
that they don't care now for anything beyond their places."
"It's only a few of them get anything, after all."
"Yes, they do. It isn't just so much a year they want, though those
who have that won't like to part with it. But they like getting
the counties, and the Garters, and the promotion in the army. They
like their brothers to be made bishops, and their sisters like the
Wardrobe and the Bedchamber. There isn't one of them that doesn't
hang on somewhere,--or at least not many. Do you remember Peel's bill
for the Corn Laws?"
"There were fifty went against him then," said Bonteen.
"And what are fifty? A man doesn't like to be one of fifty. It's
too many for glory, and not enough for strength. There has come up
among them a general feeling that it's just as well to let things
slide,--as the Yankees say. They're down-hearted about it enough
within their own houses, no doubt. But what can they do, if they hold
back? Some stout old cavalier here and there may shut himself up in
his own castle, and tell himself that the world around him may go to
wrack and ruin, but that he will not help the evil work. Some are
shutting themselves up. Look at old Quin, when they carried their
Reform Bill. But men, as a rule, don't like to be shut up. How they
reconcile it to their conscience,--that's what I can't understand."
Such was the wisdom, and such were the fears of Mr. Ratler. Mr.
Bonteen, however, could not bring himself to believe that the
Arch-enemy would on this occasion be successful. "It mayn't be too
hot for him," said Mr. Bonteen, when he reviewed the whole matter,
"but I think it'll be too heavy."
They who had mounted higher than Mr. Ratler and Mr. Bonteen on the
political ladder, but who had mounted on the same side, were no
less astonished than their inferiors; and, perhaps, were equally
disgusted, though they did not allow themselves to express their
disgust as plainly. Mr. Gresham was staying in the country with his
friend, Lord Cantrip, when the tidings reached them of Mr. Daubeny's
speech to the electors of East Barsetshire. Mr. Gresham and Lord
Cantrip had long sat in the same Cabinet, and were fast friends,
understanding each other's views, and thoroughly trusting each
other's loyalty. "He means it," said Lord Cantrip.
"He means to see if it be possible," said the other. "It is thrown
out as a feeler to his own party."
"I'll do him the justice of saying that he's not afraid of his party.
If he means it, he means it altogether, and will not retract it, even
though the party should refuse as a body to support him. I give him
no other credit, but I give him that."
Mr. Gresham paused for a few moments before he answered. "I do not
know," said he, "whether we are justified in thinking that one man
will always be the same. Daubeny has once been very audacious, and he
succeeded. But he had two things to help him,--a leader, who, though
thoroughly trusted, was very idle, and an ill-defined question. When
he had won his leader he had won his party. He has no such tower of
strength now. And in the doing of this thing, if he means to do it,
he must encounter the assured conviction of every man on his own
side, both in the upper and lower House. When he told them that he
would tap a Conservative element by reducing the suffrage they did
not know whether to believe him or not. There might be something
in it. It might be that they would thus resume a class of suffrage
existing in former days, but which had fallen into abeyance, because
not properly protected. They could teach themselves to believe that
it might be so, and those among them who found it necessary to free
their souls did so teach themselves. I don't see how they are to free
their souls when they are invited to put down the State establishment
of the Church."
"He'll find a way for them."
"It's possible. I'm the last man in the world to contest the
possibility, or even the expediency, of changes in political opinion.
But I do not know whether it follows that because he was brave and
successful once he must necessarily be brave and successful again. A
man rides at some outrageous fence, and by the wonderful activity and
obedient zeal of his horse is carried over it in safety. It does not
follow that his horse will carry him over a house, or that he should
be fool enough to ask the beast to do so."
"He intends to ride at the house," said Lord Cantrip; "and he means
it because others have talked of it. You saw the line which my rash
young friend Finn took at Tankerville."
"And all for nothing."
"I am not so sure of that. They say he is like the rest. If Daubeny
does carry the party with him, I suppose the days of the Church are
numbered."
"And what if they be?" Mr. Gresham almost sighed as he said this,
although he intended to express a certain amount of satisfaction.
"What if they be? You know, and I know, that the thing has to be
done. Whatever may be our own individual feelings, or even our
present judgment on the subject,--as to which neither of us can
perhaps say that his mind is not so made up that it may not soon
be altered,--we know that the present union cannot remain. It is
unfitted for that condition of humanity to which we are coming, and
if so, the change must be for good. Why should not he do it as well
as another? Or rather would not he do it better than another, if he
can do it with less of animosity than we should rouse against us? If
the blow would come softer from his hands than from ours, with less
of a feeling of injury to those who dearly love the Church, should we
not be glad that he should undertake the task?"
"Then you will not oppose him?"
"Ah;--there is much to be considered before we can say that. Though
he may not be bound by his friends, we may be bound by ours. And
then, though I can hint to you at a certain condition of mind,
and can sympathise with you, feeling that such may become the
condition of your mind, I cannot say that I should act upon it as an
established conviction, or that I can expect that you will do so. If
such be the political programme submitted to us when the House meets,
then we must be prepared."
Lord Cantrip also paused a moment before he answered, but he had his
answer ready. "I can frankly say that I should follow your leading,
but that I should give my voice for opposition."
"Your voice is always persuasive," said Mr. Gresham.
But the consternation felt among Mr. Daubeny's friends was infinitely
greater than that which fell among his enemies, when those wonderful
words were read, discussed, criticised, and explained. It seemed to
every clergyman in England that nothing short of disestablishment
could be intended by them. And this was the man to whom they had
all looked for protection! This was the bulwark of the Church, to
whom they had trusted! This was the hero who had been so sound and
so firm respecting the Irish Establishment, when evil counsels
had been allowed to prevail in regard to that ill-used but still
sacred vineyard! All friends of the Church had then whispered
among themselves fearfully, and had, with sad looks and grievous
forebodings, acknowledged that the thin edge of the wedge had been
driven into the very rock of the Establishment. The enemies of
the Church were known to be powerful, numerous, and of course
unscrupulous. But surely this Brutus would not raise a dagger against
this Cæsar! And yet, if not, what was the meaning of those words?
And then men and women began to tell each other,--the men and women
who are the very salt of the earth in this England of ours,--that
their Brutus, in spite of his great qualities, had ever been
mysterious, unintelligible, dangerous, and given to feats of
conjuring. They had only been too submissive to their Brutus.
Wonderful feats of conjuring they had endured, understanding nothing
of the manner in which they were performed,--nothing of their
probable results; but this feat of conjuring they would not endure.
And so there were many meetings held about the country, though the
time for combined action was very short.
Nothing more audacious than the speaking of those few words to the
bucolic electors of East Barsetshire had ever been done in the
political history of England. Cromwell was bold when he closed the
Long Parliament. Shaftesbury was bold when he formed the plot for
which Lord Russell and others suffered. Walpole was bold when, in
his lust for power, he discarded one political friend after another.
And Peel was bold when he resolved to repeal the Corn Laws. But in
none of these instances was the audacity displayed more wonderful
than when Mr. Daubeny took upon himself to make known throughout
the country his intention of abolishing the Church of England. For
to such a declaration did those few words amount. He was now the
recognised parliamentary leader of that party to which the Church
of England was essentially dear. He had achieved his place by skill,
rather than principle,--by the conviction on men's minds that he was
necessary rather than that he was fit. But still, there he was; and,
though he had alarmed many,--had, probably, alarmed all those who
followed him by his eccentric and dangerous mode of carrying on the
battle; though no Conservative regarded him as safe; yet on this
question of the Church it had been believed that he was sound. What
might be the special ideas of his own mind regarding ecclesiastical
policy in general, it had not been thought necessary to consider.
His utterances had been confusing, mysterious, and perhaps purposely
unintelligible; but that was matter of little moment so long as he
was prepared to defend the establishment of the Church of England
as an institution adapted for English purposes. On that point it
was believed that he was sound. To that mast it was supposed he had
nailed his own colours and those of his party. In defending that
fortress it was thought that he would be ready to fall, should the
defence of it require a fall. It was because he was so far safe that
he was there. And yet he spoke these words without consulting a
single friend, or suggesting the propriety of his new scheme to a
single supporter. And he knew what he was doing. This was the way in
which he had thought it best to make known to his own followers, not
only that he was about to abandon the old Institution, but that they
must do so too!
As regarded East Barsetshire itself, he was returned, and fêted, and
sent home with his ears stuffed with eulogy, before the bucolic mind
had discovered his purpose. On so much he had probably calculated.
But he had calculated also that after an interval of three or four
days his secret would be known to all friends and enemies. On the day
after his speech came the report of it in the newspapers; on the next
day the leading articles, in which the world was told what it was
that the Prime Minister had really said. Then, on the following day,
the startled parsons, and the startled squires and farmers, and,
above all, the startled peers and members of the Lower House, whose
duty it was to vote as he should lead them, were all agog. Could it
be that the newspapers were right in this meaning which they had
attached to these words? On the day week after the election in East
Barsetshire, a Cabinet Council was called in London, at which it
would, of course, be Mr. Daubeny's duty to explain to his colleagues
what it was that he did purpose to do.
In the meantime he saw a colleague or two.
"Let us look it straight in the face," he said to a noble colleague;
"we must look it in the face before long."
"But we need not hurry it forward."
"There is a storm coming. We knew that before, and we heard the sound
of it from every husting in the country. How shall we rule the storm
so that it may pass over the land without devastating it? If we bring
in a bill--"
"A bill for disestablishing the Church!" said the horror-stricken
lord.
"If we bring in a bill, the purport of which shall be to moderate the
ascendancy of the Church in accordance with the existing religious
feelings of the population, we shall save much that otherwise must
fall. If there must be a bill, would you rather that it should be
modelled by us who love the Church, or by those who hate it?"
That lord was very wrath, and told the right honourable gentleman
to his face that his duty to his party should have constrained him
to silence on that subject till he had consulted his colleagues. In
answer to this Mr. Daubeny said with much dignity that, should such
be the opinion of his colleagues in general, he would at once abandon
the high place which he held in their councils. But he trusted that
it might be otherwise. He had felt himself bound to communicate his
ideas to his constituents, and had known that in doing so some minds
must be shocked. He trusted that he might be able to allay this
feeling of dismay. As regarded this noble lord, he did succeed in
lessening the dismay before the meeting was over, though he did not
altogether allay it.
Another gentleman who was in the habit of sitting at Mr. Daubeny's
elbow daily in the House of Commons was much gentler with him, both
as to words and manner. "It's a bold throw, but I'm afraid it won't
come up sixes," said the right honourable gentleman.
"Let it come up fives, then. It's the only chance we have; and if
you think, as I do, that it is essentially necessary for the welfare
of the country that we should remain where we are, we must run the
risk."
With another colleague, whose mind was really set on that which
the Church is presumed to represent, he used another argument.
"I am convinced at any rate of this," said Mr. Daubeny; "that by
sacrificing something of that ascendancy which the Establishment is
supposed to give us, we can bring the Church, which we love, nearer
to the wants of the people." And so it came about that before the
Cabinet met, every member of it knew what it was that was expected
of him.