The TurnstileMason, A. E. W. (Alfred Edward Woodley)
General
The Turnstile
Mason, A. E. W. (Alfred Edward Woodley)
Fiction
"There are the barristers," objected Rames.
"The House of Commons is in their line of business," returned Henry
Smale. "The highest offices of the law are reached through the House
of Commons. Moreover, the questions which arise for debate here have
often been the subject already of suits in the law courts. They have
acquired, too, the knack of extracting rapidly the essential things
out of a paper or a bill. Thus, the barristers come especially
equipped. Yet, even so, very often they do not make their mark. And
here is a point for you, Captain Rames." Henry Smale turned with a
warning finger upraised and stopped in his walk. "The most
distinguished men enter this House and never get the ear of it. The
House of Commons is not ungenerous, but for eight hours a day through
a long portion of the year people are talking in that Chamber there,
and it will not provide an audience unless, first, the speaker has
something of his own to contribute, and, secondly, can express his
contribution. It does not, on the one hand, ask for oratory; it is
not, on the other, content even with exhaustive knowledge; it demands
character, personality, the power of coining out of your knowledge
some judgments of your own, the power of explaining your judgment in
clear and intelligible phrases sufficiently vivid to arrest its
attention. I admit at once that if you succeed, success here is
sweeter than anywhere else; its recognition is so immediate. But, on
the other hand, here disappointment is more bitter. To come in with
ambition, and to be left behind in the race--there is no destiny more
galling."
"Yes," said Rames quietly, "I have thought over these things. There is
that risk. I am prepared to take it."
"Very well," returned Smale, and once more he turned on the stone
pavement, and with Rames at his side retraced his steps. "Let us
suppose that you have got the ear of the House, that the benches fill
up when you rise, and men stand at the bar to listen to you. Well,
even so, you may lose your seat, and you may not yet have established
yourself firmly enough to make your party find you another. There you
are--out, your dreams dissolved, your ambitions stopped, yourself
miserable, and your presence in this lobby an insignificance. Where
you walked by right, you come as a guest; you have been, and you are
not; you must turn to something else, while your thoughts are here,
and very likely you are already too old to turn to something else."
"You put the worst side of it all in front of me, Mr. Smale."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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