And now there were going to be wondrous doings in West Barsetshire,
and men’s minds were much disturbed. The fiat had gone forth from the
high places, and the Queen had dissolved her faithful Commons. The
giants, finding that they could effect little or nothing with the old
House, had resolved to try what a new venture would do for them, and
the hubbub of a general election was to pervade the country. This
produced no inconsiderable irritation and annoyance, for the House
was not as yet quite three years old; and members of Parliament,
though they naturally feel a constitutional pleasure in meeting
their friends and in pressing the hands of their constituents, are,
nevertheless, so far akin to the lower order of humanity that they
appreciate the danger of losing their seats; and the certainty of
a considerable outlay in their endeavours to retain them is not
agreeable to the legislative mind.
Never did the old family fury between the gods and giants rage higher
than at the present moment. The giants declared that every turn which
they attempted to take in their country’s service had been thwarted
by faction, in spite of those benign promises of assistance made
to them only a few weeks since by their opponents; and the gods
answered by asserting that they were driven to this opposition by
the Bœotian fatuity of the giants. They had no doubt promised
their aid, and were ready to give it to measures that were decently
prudent; but not to a bill enabling government at its will to pension
aged bishops! No; there must be some limit to their tolerance, and
when such attempts as these were made that limit had been clearly
passed.
All this had taken place openly only a day or two after that casual
whisper dropped by Tom Towers at Miss Dunstable’s party—by Tom
Towers, that most pleasant of all pleasant fellows. And how should
he have known it,—he who flutters from one sweetest flower of the
garden to another,
“Adding sugar to the pink, and honey to the rose,
So loved for what he gives, but taking nothing as he goes”?
But the whisper had grown into a rumour, and the rumour into a
fact, and the political world was in a ferment. The giants, furious
about their bishops’ pension bill, threatened the House—most
injudiciously; and then it was beautiful to see how indignant members
got up, glowing with honesty, and declared that it was base to
conceive that any gentleman in that House could be actuated in his
vote by any hopes or fears with reference to his seat. And so matters
grew from bad to worse, and these contending parties never hit at
each other with such envenomed wrath as they did now;—having entered
the ring together so lately with such manifold promises of good-will,
respect, and forbearance!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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