Coningsby; Or, The New GenerationDisraeli, Benjamin, Earl of Beaconsfield
General
Coningsby; Or, The New Generation
Disraeli, Benjamin, Earl of Beaconsfield
Great Britain -- Fiction; Political fiction; Politicians -- Fiction
In the meantime, notwithstanding all the efforts of the political
Panglosses who, in evening Journals and Quarterly Reviews were
continually proving that this was the best of all possible governments,
it was evident to the ministry itself that the machine must stop. The
class of Rigbys indeed at this period, one eminently favourable to that
fungous tribe, greatly distinguished themselves. They demonstrated in a
manner absolutely convincing, that it was impossible for any person to
possess any ability, knowledge, or virtue, any capacity of reasoning,
any ray of fancy or faculty of imagination, who was not a supporter of
the existing administration. If any one impeached the management of a
department, the public was assured that the accuser had embezzled;
if any one complained of the conduct of a colonial governor, the
complainant was announced as a returned convict. An amelioration of
the criminal code was discountenanced because a search in the parish
register of an obscure village proved that the proposer had not been
born in wedlock. A relaxation of the commercial system was denounced
because one of its principal advocates was a Socinian. The inutility of
Parliamentary Reform was ever obvious since Mr. Rigby was a member of
the House of Commons.
To us, with our _Times_ newspaper every morning on our breakfast-table,
bringing, on every subject which can interest the public mind, a degree
of information and intelligence which must form a security against
any prolonged public misconception, it seems incredible that only
five-and-twenty years ago the English mind could have been so ridden
and hoodwinked, and that, too, by men of mean attainments and moderate
abilities. But the war had directed the energies of the English people
into channels by no means favourable to political education. Conquerors
of the world, with their ports filled with the shipping of every clime,
and their manufactories supplying the European continent, in the art
of self-government, that art in which their fathers excelled, they had
become literally children; and Rigby and his brother hirelings were the
nurses that frightened them with hideous fables and ugly words.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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