"But, you know, Mr. Vivian, you know it is for your interest as much as for mine; for, you know, the marquisate will probably descend, in due course of time, to your son. So your interest is full as much concerned as mine; and besides, let me tell you, I have not forgotten your immediate interest: I have stipulated that you should have the valuable place which Mr. C---- was to have had."

All that Russell had said of public virtue was fresh in our hero's mind.

"I thank you, my dear lord," said he; "for I am sure this was kindly intended; but I am not one of those persons, who in public affairs think only of their private interest--I am not thinking of my interest. But if a man maintains certain public measures one day, and the next, for _valuable consideration_, supports diametrically opposite opinions and measures, he will lose, and deserve to lose, all reputation for integrity."

"Integrity! political integrity!" said Lord Glis...o...b..ry; "fine words, which mean nothing. Behind the scenes, as we are now, Vivian, what use can there be in talking in that strain?--Between you and me, you know this is all nonsense. For who, of any party, now thinks, really and truly, of any thing but getting power or keeping it? Power, you know, stands for the measure of talent; and every thing else worth having is included in that word power. I speak plainly. And as honour is merely an affair of opinion, and opinion, again, an affair of numbers, and as there are numbers enough to keep one in countenance in these things; really, my dear Vivian, it is quite childish, quite boyish, smells of the lamp. To declaim about political integrity, and all that, is not the language of a man who knows any thing of business--any thing of the world.--But why do I say all this?" cried Lord Glis...o...b..ry, checking himself and a.s.suming an air of more reserved displeasure.--"Mr.

Vivian certainly knows all this as well as I do; I know how my nephew Marmaduke, who, with all his faults, is no fool, would interpret your present language: he would say, as I have often heard him say, that political integrity is only a civil _put off_."

"Political integrity only a civil put off!" repeated Vivian, with unfeigned astonishment. When he formerly heard similar sentiments from the avowed profligate and hackneyed politician Mr. Wharton, he was shocked; but to hear them repeated, as being coolly laid down by so young a man as Mr. Lidhurst, excited so much disgust and contempt in Vivian's mind, that he could hardly refrain from saying more than either prudence or politeness could justify.

"Now I am free to confess," pursued Lord Glis...o...b..ry, "that I should think it more candid and manly, and, I will add, more friendly, and more the natural, open conduct of a son-in-law to a father-in-law, instead of talking of political integrity, to have said, at once, I cannot oblige you in this instance."

"Surely, my lord, you cannot be in earnest?" said Vivian.

"I tell you, sir, I am in earnest," cried his lordship, turning suddenly in a rage, as he walked up and down the room; "I say, it would have been more candid, more manly, more every thing,--and much more like a son-in-law--much!--much!----I am sure, if I had known as much as I do now, sir, you never should have been my son-in-law--never! never!--seen Lady Sarah in her grave first!--I would!--I would!--yes, sir--I would!----And you are the last person upon earth I should have expected it from. But I have a nephew--I have a nephew, and now I know the difference. No man can distinguish his friends till he tries them."

Vivian in vain endeavoured to appease Lord Glis...o...b..ry by a.s.surances that he would do any thing in his power to oblige him, except what he himself considered as dishonourable: his lordship reiterated, with divers pa.s.sionate e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns, that if Vivian would not oblige him in this point, on which he had set his heart--where the great object of his life was at stake--he could never believe he had any regard for him; and that in short, it must come to an open rupture between them, for that he should never consider him more as his son. Having uttered this denunciation as distinctly as pa.s.sion would permit, Lord Glis...o...b..ry retired to rest.

Vivian went immediately to his mother, to tell her what had pa.s.sed, and he felt almost secure of her approbation; but though she praised him for his generous spirit of independence, yet it was evident the hopes that the t.i.tle of marquis might descend to a grandson of her own weighed more with her than any patriotic considerations. She declared, that indeed she would not, for any t.i.tle, or any thing upon earth, have her son act dishonourably; but what was asked of him, as far as she could understand, was only such a change of party, such compliances, as every public man in his place would make: and though she would not have him, like some she could name, a corrupt tool of government, yet, on the other hand, it was folly to expect that he alone could do any thing against the general tide of corruption--that it would be madness in him to sacrifice himself entirely, without the slightest possibility of doing any good to his country.

Vivian interrupted her, to represent that, if each public man argued in this manner, nothing could ever be accomplished for the public good: that, on the contrary, if every man hoped that something might be done, even by his individual exertion, and if he determined to sacrifice a portion of his private interest in the attempt, perhaps much might be effected.

"Very likely!" Lady Mary said. She confessed she knew little of politics: so from argument she went to persuasion and entreaties. She conjured him not to quarrel with the Glis...o...b..rys, and not to provoke Lord Glis...o...b..ry's displeasure. "I see all that artful Marmaduke's schemes," said she: "he knows his uncle's pertinacious temper; and he hopes that your notions of patriotism will prevent you from yielding on a point, on which his uncle has set his heart. Marmaduke will know how to take advantage of all this, believe me!"

Vivian was shaken in his resolution by his mother's entreaties--by the idea of all the family quarrels that would ensue, and of all the difficulties in which he might be involved, if he persisted in his generous determination.

"My dear son," resumed she, "it would be absolute madness to refuse the place that is now offered you: only consider the situation of your affairs--consider, I beseech you, the distress you will be in by and by, if you reject this offer--recollect the immense demands upon you; recollect that heap of bills for the election, and for the buildings, and all the poor workmen about the castle! and that coachmaker too! and remember, the purchase money of the house in town must be paid in three months. And the only possible means by which you can get out of debt, is by accepting this place, which would put you at ease at once, and enable you to continue in the style of life to which you have of late been accustomed."

"As to that, I could alter my style of life--I would do any thing,"

cried Vivian, "to pay my debts and preserve my independence. I will alter my mode of living, and retrench decidedly and vigorously."

"Well, my dear son, I admire your spirit, and, if you can do this, it will certainly be best; but I fear that when it comes to the trial, you will not be able to persevere."

"I shall--I shall! Believe me, mother, I have resolution enough for this--you do me injustice," said Vivian.

"No, my dear Charles, I do you justice; for I do not doubt your resolution, as far as your own privations are concerned; but, consider your wife--consider Lady Sarah--consider the luxury in which she has always been accustomed to live, and the high sphere in which her relations move! How her pride would be hurt by their looking down upon her! I have no doubt Lady Sarah would do her duty, and make any sacrifices for her husband; and if you were--I must now speak plainly--if you were pa.s.sionately fond of her--an all-for-love husband--you could, with honour and propriety, accept of such sacrifices; but what would retirement be _to_ poor Lady Sarah, and _with_ Lady Sarah?"

Vivian told his mother that he would take a night to reconsider the matter coolly; and, satisfied with having gained so much, she suffered him to go home. As he was quitting his own dressing-room, he paused, to consider whether he should consult his wife, who was, as yet, in ignorance of the whole transaction, and who knew nothing of the deranged state of his affairs. He did her the justice to believe that she would be willing to live with him in retirement, and to forego all the luxuries and pride of her rank, for the sake of her duty and of her love. He was convinced that, in any opposition between her father's interests and her husband's honour, she would strongly abide by her husband. He recollected all Lady Julia had said of the advantage that her sister's firmness of mind might be in steadying his vacillating temper in any moment of trial. Here was the first _great occasion_, since his marriage, where his wife's strength of mind could be of essential service to him: yet he hesitated whether he should avail himself of this advantage; and every moment, as he approached nearer to her apartment, he hesitated more and more; He did not, in the first place, like to humble himself so far as to ask her counsel; then he had not courage to confess those debts and embarra.s.sments which he had hitherto concealed. All that his mother had suggested about the indelicacy of requiring or accepting great sacrifices from a woman whom, though he esteemed, he could not love--the horror of retirement with such a companion--the long years _tete-a-tete_--all these ideas combined, but chiefly the apprehension of the immediate present pain of speaking to her on a disagreeable subject, and of being obliged to hear her speak with that formal deliberation which he detested; added to this, the dread of her surprise, if not of her reproaches, when all his affairs should be revealed, operated so irresistibly upon his weakness, that he decided on the common resource--concealment. His hand was upon the lock of his chamber-door, and he turned it cautiously and softly, lest, in entering his apartment, he should waken Lady Sarah: but she was not asleep.

"What can have kept you so late, Mr. Vivian?" said she.

"Business, my dear," answered he, with some embarra.s.sment.

"May I ask what sort of business?"

"Oh!--only--political business."

"Political business!" She looked earnestly at her husband; but, as if repressing her curiosity, she afterwards added, "our s.e.x have nothing to do with politics," and, turning away from the light, she composed herself to sleep.

"Very true, my dear," replied Vivian--not a word more did he say: content with this evasion of the difficulty, he thus, by his weakness, deprived himself of the real advantage of his wife's strength of mind.

Whilst Lady Sarah, in total ignorance of the distress of her husband, slept in peace, he lay awake, revolving painful thoughts in the silence of the night. All that his mother had said about the pecuniary difficulties to which they must soon be reduced recurred with fresh force; the ideas of the unpaid election bills, all the masons', carpenters', painters', glaziers', and upholsterers' bills, with "thousands yet unnamed behind," rose, in dreadful array, before him, and the enthusiasm of his patriotism was appalled. With feverish reiteration, he ran over and over, in his mind, the same circle of difficulties, continually returning to the question, "_Then what can be done?_" Bitterly did he this night regret the foolish expenses into which he had early in life been led. If it were to do over again, he certainly would not turn his house into a castle; if he had foreseen how much the expense would surpa.s.s the estimates, a.s.suredly nothing could have tempted him to such extravagance. The architect, the masons, the workmen, one and all, were knaves; but, one and all, they must be paid. Then what could he do?--And the debts incurred by the contested elections!--contested elections are cursed things, when the bills come to be paid; but, cursed or not, they must be paid. Then what could he do?--The distress in which he should involve his generous mother--the sacrifices he should require from his wife--the family quarrels--all that Lady Sarah would suffer from them--the _situation_ of his wife.

Then what could he do?--He MUST submit to Lord Glis...o...b..ry, and take the place that was offered to him.

Vivian sighed--and turned in his bed--and sighed--and thought--and turned--and sighed again--and the last sigh of expiring patriotism escaped him!----To this end, to this miserable end, must all patriotism come, which is not supported by the seemingly inferior virtues of prudence and economy.

Poor Vivian endeavoured to comfort himself by the reflection that he should not act from merely mercenary considerations, but that he was compelled to yield to the solicitations of his mother and of his father-in-law; that he was forced to sacrifice his own public opinions to secure domestic peace, and to prevent the distress of his mother, the misery, and perhaps danger, of his wife and child. Dereliction of principle, in these circ.u.mstances, was something like an amiable, a pardonable weakness. And then, see it in what light you will, as Lord Glis...o...b..ry observed, "there are so many who will keep a patriot in countenance now-a-days, for merely changing sides in politics. A man is not even thought to be a man of talents till he gets something by his talents. The bargain he makes--the price he gains--is, in most people's estimation, the value of the public man."

All this Vivian said to himself to quiet his conscience; and all this, he knew, would be _abundantly satisfactory_ to the generality of people with whom he a.s.sociated; therefore, from them he could fear neither reproach nor contempt: but he could not bear even to think of Russell--he felt all the pangs of remorse, and agony of shame, as the idea of such a friend came into his mind. Again he turned in his bed, and groaned aloud--so loud, that Lady Sarah wakened, and, starting up, asked what was the matter; but receiving no answer, she imagined that she had been in a dream, or that her husband had spoken in his sleep.

He groaned no more, nor did he even sigh: but fatigued with thinking and with feeling, he at last fell into a sort of slumber, which lasted till it was time to rise. Before Vivian was dressed, Lord Glis...o...b..ry called upon him--he went into his dressing-room. His lordship came with his best address, and most courteous face of persuasion; he held out his hand, in a frank and cordial manner, as he entered, begging his dear son's pardon for the warmth and want of temper, he was free to confess, he had shown last night; but he was persuaded, he said, that Vivian knew his sincere regard for him, and convinced that, in short, they should never _essentially_ differ: so that he was determined to come to talk the matter over with him when they were both cool; and that he felt a.s.sured that Vivian, after a night's reflection, would always act so as to justify his preference of his son-in-law to his nephew, hey, Vivian?--Lord Glis...o...b..ry paused for an answer--Vivian cut himself as he was shaving, and was glad of a moment's reprieve; instead of answering, he only exclaimed, "Cursed razor! cut myself!--My lord, won't you sit down? will you do me the honour to--"

Lord Glis...o...b..ry seated himself; and, in regular order, with his tiresome parade of expletives, went through all the arguments that could be adduced to prove the expediency of Vivian's taking this place, and a.s.sisting him, as he had taken it for granted his son-in-law would, on such an occasion. The letters of the great and little men who had negotiated the business of the marquisate were then produced, and an account given of all that had pa.s.sed _in confidence_; and Lord Glis...o...b..ry finished by saying that the affair was absolutely concluded, he having pa.s.sed his word and pledged his honour for Vivian; that he would not have spoken or acted for him if he had not felt that he was, when acting for his son-in-law, in fact acting for himself--his second self; that there had been no time to wait, no possibility of consulting Vivian; that the whole plan was suggested yesterday, in two hours after the house broke up, and was arranged in the evening; that search and inquiries had been made every where for Vivian; but, as he could not be found, Lord Glis...o...b..ry said he had ventured to decide for him, and, as he hoped, for his interest and for that of the family; and the thing, now done, could not be undone: his lordship's word was sacred, and could not be retracted.

Vivian, in a feeble, irresolute tone, asked if there was no possibility of his being allowed to decline the place that was offered him, and suggested that he could take a middle course; to avoid voting against his lordship's wishes, he could, and he believed that he would, accept of the Chiltern Hundreds, and go out of parliament for the session.

Lord Glis...o...b..ry remonstrated against what he termed the madness of the scheme.

"A man like you, my dear Vivian, who have distinguished yourself so much already in opposition, who will distinguish yourself so much more hereafter in place and in power----"

"No," said Vivian, rising as he finished shaving himself; "no, my lord, I shall never more distinguish myself, if I abandon the principles I believe to be just and true. What eloquence I have--if I have any--has arisen from my being in earnest: I shall speak ill--I shall not be able to speak at all--when I get up against my conscience."

"Oh!" said Lord Glis...o...b..ry, laughing, "your romantic patriotism may be very nice in its feelings; but, believe me, it will not deprive you of the use of your speech. Look at every one of the fine orators of our times, and name me one, if you can, who has not spoken, and spoken equally well, on both sides of the house; ay, and on both sides of most political questions. Come, come, you'll find you will get on quite as well as they got on before you, hey?"

"You will find that I shall be of no use to you--that I shall be a dead weight on your hands."

"You a dead weight! you, who are formed to be--now, really, without flattery--you know there's no occasion for flattery between you and me--to be the soul, and, in time, the head of a party----Stay!--I know all you are going to say, but give me leave to judge--You know there's my own nephew, a very clever young man, no doubt, he is allowed to be; and yet, you see, I make no comparison between you. I a.s.sure you I am a judge in these matters, and you see the house has confirmed my judgment; and, what is more--for I can keep nothing from you--if it won't make you too vain, and make you set too high a price upon yourself, which will be very troublesome in the present case; but, I say, be that as it may, I will frankly own to you, that I believe you have been of essential service in procuring me this great favourite object of my life, the marquisate."

"I, my lord! impossible!--for I never took the slightest step toward procuring it."

"Pardon me, you took the most effectual step, without knowing it, perhaps. You spoke so well in opposition, that you made it the interest of ministry to _muzzle you_; and there was no way so effectual of getting at you as through me, I being your father-in-law and you my heir. You don't see the secret concatenation of these things with a glance as I do, who have been used to them so long. And there was no way of coming to the point with me without the marquisate--that was my _sine qua non_; and you see I gained my point--by your means, chiefly, I am free to allow--though Marmaduke would gladly persuade me it was by his negotiating. But I do you justice; I did you justice, too, in more than words, when I stipulated for that place for you, which, in fact, I knew you could not go on much longer without. So, my dear Vivian, all this explained to our mutual satisfaction, we have nothing more to do but to shake hands upon it and go down stairs; for I have engaged myself and Secretary----to breakfast with you, and he has _full powers_, and is to carry back our _capitulation_--and," continued Lord Glis...o...b..ry, looking out of the window, "here's our friend's carriage."

"Oh, my lord, it is not yet too late!" cried Vivian; "it may yet be arranged otherwise. Is there no way--no possibility----"

A loud knock at the house door.

"I wish to Heaven, my lord!----"

"So do I wish to Heaven, with all my soul, that you would finish this nonsense, my dear Vivian, and come down to breakfast. Come, come, come!--Hey, hey, hey!--This is absolutely too ridiculous, and I must go, if you don't. Only consider a political breakfast of this nature!"

Lord Glis...o...b..ry hurried down stairs:--reluctantly, and with a heavy heart and repugnant conscience, Vivian followed. At this instant, he wished for Russell, to prevent what he knew would be the consequence of this interview. But Russell was absent--the keeper of his conscience, the supporter of his resolution, was not at hand. Woe to him who is not the keeper of his own conscience--the supporter of his own resolution!

The result of this political breakfast was just what every reader, who knows the world but half as well as Lord Glis...o...b..ry knew it, has probably long since antic.i.p.ated. The capitulation of the patriots of the Glis...o...b..ry band, with Vivian at their head, was settled. Lord Glis...o...b..ry lost no character by this transaction, for he had none to lose--he was quite at his ease, or quite callous. But Vivian bartered, for a paltry _accommodation_ of his pecuniary difficulties, a reputation which stood high in the public opinion--which was invaluable in his own--which was his last stake of happiness. He knew this--he felt it with all the anguish of exquisite but USELESS sensibility.

Lord Glis...o...b..ry and his new friend, Secretary ----, who was a man of wit as well as a politician, rallied Vivian upon his gravity and upon his evident depression of spirits.

"Really, my dear Vivian," cried Lord Glis...o...b..ry, "my patience is now exhausted, and I must not let you expose yourself here, before our friend, as a novice--Hey! hey!--Why, will you never open your eyes, and see the world as it is! Why! what!--Did you never read the fable of the dog and his master's meat?--Well! it is come to that now in England; and he is a foolish dog, indeed, who, when he can't save the meat, won't secure his share--hey?"

His lordship and the secretary laughed in concert.

"Look, how Vivian preserves his solemnity!" continued Lord Glis...o...b..ry; "and he really looks as if he was surprised at us. My dear Vivian, it requires all my knowledge of your _bonne foi_ to believe that you are in earnest, and not acting the part of a patriot of _older_ times."