ONCE upon a time—_not_ in the days when pigs drank wine, but in a more
recent period of our history—it was customary to banish politics when
ladies were present. If this usage still prevailed, we should have had
no chapter for political young gentlemen, for ladies would have neither
known nor cared what kind of monster a political young gentleman was.
But as this good custom in common with many others has ‘gone out,’ and
left no word when it is likely to be home again; as political young
ladies are by no means rare, and political young gentlemen the very
reverse of scarce, we are bound in the strict discharge of our most
responsible duty not to neglect this natural division of our subject.
If the political young gentleman be resident in a country town (and there
_are_ political young gentlemen in country towns sometimes), he is wholly
absorbed in his politics; as a pair of purple spectacles communicate the
same uniform tint to all objects near and remote, so the political
glasses, with which the young gentleman assists his mental vision, give
to everything the hue and tinge of party feeling. The political young
gentleman would as soon think of being struck with the beauty of a young
lady in the opposite interest, as he would dream of marrying his sister
to the opposite member.
If the political young gentleman be a Conservative, he has usually some
vague ideas about Ireland and the Pope which he cannot very clearly
explain, but which he knows are the right sort of thing, and not to be
very easily got over by the other side. He has also some choice
sentences regarding church and state, culled from the banners in use at
the last election, with which he intersperses his conversation at
intervals with surprising effect. But his great topic is the
constitution, upon which he will declaim, by the hour together, with much
heat and fury; not that he has any particular information on the subject,
but because he knows that the constitution is somehow church and state,
and church and state somehow the constitution, and that the fellows on
the other side say it isn’t, which is quite a sufficient reason for him
to say it is, and to stick to it.
Perhaps his greatest topic of all, though, is the people. If a fight
takes place in a populous town, in which many noses are broken, and a few
windows, the young gentleman throws down the newspaper with a triumphant
air, and exclaims, ‘Here’s your precious people!’ If half-a-dozen boys
run across the course at race time, when it ought to be kept clear, the
young gentleman looks indignantly round, and begs you to observe the
conduct of the people; if the gallery demand a hornpipe between the play
and the afterpiece, the same young gentleman cries ‘No’ and ‘Shame’ till
he is hoarse, and then inquires with a sneer what you think of popular
moderation _now_; in short, the people form a never-failing theme for
him; and when the attorney, on the side of his candidate, dwells upon it
with great power of eloquence at election time, as he never fails to do,
the young gentleman and his friends, and the body they head, cheer with
great violence against _the other people_, with whom, of course, they
have no possible connexion. In much the same manner the audience at a
theatre never fail to be highly amused with any jokes at the expense of
the public—always laughing heartily at some other public, and never at
themselves.
If the political young gentleman be a Radical, he is usually a very
profound person indeed, having great store of theoretical questions to
put to you, with an infinite variety of possible cases and logical
deductions therefrom. If he be of the utilitarian school, too, which is
more than probable, he is particularly pleasant company, having many
ingenious remarks to offer upon the voluntary principle and various
cheerful disquisitions connected with the population of the country, the
position of Great Britain in the scale of nations, and the balance of
power. Then he is exceedingly well versed in all doctrines of political
economy as laid down in the newspapers, and knows a great many
parliamentary speeches by heart; nay, he has a small stock of aphorisms,
none of them exceeding a couple of lines in length, which will settle the
toughest question and leave you nothing to say. He gives all the young
ladies to understand, that Miss Martineau is the greatest woman that ever
lived; and when they praise the good looks of Mr. Hawkins the new member,
says he’s very well for a representative, all things considered, but he
wants a little calling to account, and he is more than half afraid it
will be necessary to bring him down on his knees for that vote on the
miscellaneous estimates. At this, the young ladies express much
wonderment, and say surely a Member of Parliament is not to be brought
upon his knees so easily; in reply to which the political young gentleman
smiles sternly, and throws out dark hints regarding the speedy arrival of
that day, when Members of Parliament will be paid salaries, and required
to render weekly accounts of their proceedings, at which the young ladies
utter many expressions of astonishment and incredulity, while their
lady-mothers regard the prophecy as little else than blasphemous.
It is extremely improving and interesting to hear two political young
gentlemen, of diverse opinions, discuss some great question across a
dinner-table; such as, whether, if the public were admitted to
Westminster Abbey for nothing, they would or would not convey small
chisels and hammers in their pockets, and immediately set about chipping
all the noses off the statues; or whether, if they once got into the
Tower for a shilling, they would not insist upon trying the crown on
their own heads, and loading and firing off all the small arms in the
armoury, to the great discomposure of Whitechapel and the Minories. Upon
these, and many other momentous questions which agitate the public mind
in these desperate days, they will discourse with great vehemence and
irritation for a considerable time together, both leaving off precisely
where they began, and each thoroughly persuaded that he has got the
better of the other.
In society, at assemblies, balls, and playhouses, these political young
gentlemen are perpetually on the watch for a political allusion, or
anything which can be tortured or construed into being one; when,
thrusting themselves into the very smallest openings for their favourite
discourse, they fall upon the unhappy company tooth and nail. They have
recently had many favourable opportunities of opening in churches, but as
there the clergyman has it all his own way, and must not be contradicted,
whatever politics he preaches, they are fain to hold their tongues until
they reach the outer door, though at the imminent risk of bursting in the
effort.
As such discussions can please nobody but the talkative parties
concerned, we hope they will henceforth take the hint and discontinue
them, otherwise we now give them warning, that the ladies have our advice
to discountenance such talkers altogether.