CHAPTER XLIV.
THE COMING ELECTION.
The very greatness of Mr. Melmotte's popularity, the extent ofthe admiration which was accorded by the public at large to hiscommercial enterprise and financial sagacity, created a peculiarbitterness in the opposition that was organised against him atWestminster. As the high mountains are intersected by deep valleys,as puritanism in one age begets infidelity in the next, as in manycountries the thickness of the winter's ice will be in proportionto the number of the summer musquitoes, so was the keenness of thehostility displayed on this occasion in proportion to the warmth ofthe support which was manifested. As the great man was praised, soalso was he abused. As he was a demi-god to some, so was he a fiendto others. And indeed there was hardly any other way in which itwas possible to carry on the contest against him. From the momentin which Mr. Melmotte had declared his purpose of standing forWestminster in the Conservative interest, an attempt was made todrive him down the throats of the electors by clamorous assertions ofhis unprecedented commercial greatness. It seemed that there was butone virtue in the world, commercial enterprise,--and that Melmottewas its prophet. It seemed, too, that the orators and writers of theday intended all Westminster to believe that Melmotte treated hisgreat affairs in a spirit very different from that which animates thebosoms of merchants in general. He had risen above any feeling ofpersonal profit. His wealth was so immense that there was no longerplace for anxiety on that score. He already possessed,--so it wassaid,--enough to found a dozen families, and he had but one daughter!But by carrying on the enormous affairs which he held in his hands,he would be able to open up new worlds, to afford relief to theoppressed nationalities of the over-populated old countries. He hadseen how small was the good done by the Peabodys and the Bairds, and,resolving to lend no ear to charities and religions, was intent onprojects for enabling young nations to earn plentiful bread by themoderate sweat of their brows. He was the head and front of therailway which was to regenerate Mexico. It was presumed that thecontemplated line from ocean to ocean across British America wouldbecome a fact in his hands. It was he who was to enter into termswith the Emperor of China for farming the tea-fields of that vastcountry. He was already in treaty with Russia for a railway fromMoscow to Khiva. He had a fleet,--or soon would have a fleet ofemigrant ships,--ready to carry every discontented Irishman out ofIreland to whatever quarter of the globe the Milesian might choosefor the exercise of his political principles. It was known that hehad already floated a company for laying down a submarine wire fromPenzance to Point de Galle, round the Cape of Good Hope,--so that,in the event of general wars, England need be dependent on no othercountry for its communications with India. And then there was thephilanthropic scheme for buying the liberty of the Arabian fellahsfrom the Khedive of Egypt for thirty millions sterling,--thecompensation to consist of the concession of a territory about fourtimes as big as Great Britain in the lately annexed country on thegreat African lakes. It may have been the case that some of thesethings were as yet only matters of conversation,--speculations as towhich Mr. Melmotte's mind and imagination had been at work, ratherthan his pocket or even his credit; but they were all sufficientlymatured to find their way into the public press, and to be used asstrong arguments why Melmotte should become member of Parliament forWestminster.
All this praise was of course gall to those who found themselvescalled upon by the demands of their political position to oppose Mr.Melmotte. You can run down a demi-god only by making him out to be ademi-devil. These very persons, the leading Liberals of the leadingborough in England as they called themselves, would perhaps havecared little about Melmotte's antecedents had it not become theirduty to fight him as a Conservative. Had the great man found at thelast moment that his own British politics had been liberal in theirnature, these very enemies would have been on his committee. It wastheir business to secure the seat. And as Melmotte's supporters beganthe battle with an attempt at what the Liberals called "bounce,"--tocarry the borough with a rush by an overwhelming assertion oftheir candidate's virtues,--the other party was driven to makesome enquiries as to that candidate's antecedents. They quicklywarmed to the work, and were not less loud in exposing the Satanof speculation, than had been the Conservatives in declaring thecommercial Jove. Emissaries were sent to Paris and Francfort, andthe wires were used to Vienna and New York. It was not difficultto collect stories,--true or false; and some quiet men, who merelylooked on at the game, expressed an opinion that Melmotte might havewisely abstained from the glories of Parliament.
Nevertheless there was at first some difficulty in finding a properLiberal candidate to run against him. The nobleman who had beenelevated out of his seat by the death of his father had been a greatWhig magnate, whose family was possessed of immense wealth andof popularity equal to its possessions. One of that family mighthave contested the borough at a much less expense than any otherperson,--and to them the expense would have mattered but little.But there was no such member of it forthcoming. Lord This and LordThat,--and the Honourable This and the Honourable That, sons of othercognate Lords,--already had seats which they were unwilling to vacatein the present state of affairs. There was but one other session forthe existing Parliament; and the odds were held to be very greatly inMelmotte's favour. Many an outsider was tried, but the outsiders wereeither afraid of Melmotte's purse or his influence. Lord Buntingfordwas asked, and he and his family were good old Whigs. But he wasnephew to Lord Alfred Grendall, first cousin to Miles Grendall, andabstained on behalf of his relatives. An overture was made to SirDamask Monogram, who certainly could afford the contest. But SirDamask did not see his way. Melmotte was a working bee, while he wasa drone,--and he did not wish to have the difference pointed out byMr. Melmotte's supporters. Moreover, he preferred his yacht and hisfour-in-hand.
At last a candidate was selected, whose nomination and whose consentto occupy the position created very great surprise in the Londonworld. The press had of course taken up the matter very strongly. The"Morning Breakfast Table" supported Mr. Melmotte with all its weight.There were people who said that this support was given by Mr. Brouneunder the influence of Lady Carbury, and that Lady Carbury in thisway endeavoured to reconcile the great man to a marriage betweenhis daughter and Sir Felix. But it is more probable that Mr. Brounesaw,--or thought that he saw,--which way the wind sat, and that hesupported the commercial hero because he felt that the hero would besupported by the country at large. In praising a book, or puttingforemost the merits of some official or military claimant, or writingup a charity,--in some small matter of merely personal interest,--theEditor of the "Morning Breakfast Table" might perhaps allow himselfto listen to a lady whom he loved. But he knew his work too well tojeopardize his paper by such influences in any matter which mightprobably become interesting to the world of his readers. There wasa strong belief in Melmotte. The clubs thought that he would bereturned for Westminster. The dukes and duchesses feted him. Thecity,--even the city was showing a wavering disposition to comeround. Bishops begged for his name on the list of promoters of theirpet schemes. Royalty without stint was to dine at his table. Melmottehimself was to sit at the right hand of the brother of the Sun andof the uncle of the Moon, and British Royalty was to be arrangedopposite, so that every one might seem to have the place of mosthonour. How could a conscientious Editor of a "Morning BreakfastTable," seeing how things were going, do other than support Mr.Melmotte? In fair justice it may be well doubted whether Lady Carburyhad exercised any influence in the matter.
But the "Evening Pulpit" took the other side. Now this was themore remarkable, the more sure to attract attention, inasmuch asthe "Evening Pulpit" had never supported the Liberal interest.As was said in the first chapter of this work, the motto of thatnewspaper implied that it was to be conducted on principles ofabsolute independence. Had the "Evening Pulpit," like some of itscontemporaries, lived by declaring from day to day that all Liberalelements were godlike, and all their opposites satanic, as a matterof course the same line of argum
ent would have prevailed as to theWestminster election. But as it had not been so, the vigour of the"Evening Pulpit" on this occasion was the more alarming and themore noticeable,--so that the short articles which appeared almostdaily in reference to Mr. Melmotte were read by everybody. Now theywho are concerned in the manufacture of newspapers are well awarethat censure is infinitely more attractive than eulogy,--but theyare quite as well aware that it is more dangerous. No proprietoror editor was ever brought before the courts at the cost of everso many hundred pounds,--which if things go badly may rise tothousands,--because he had attributed all but divinity to some verypoor specimen of mortality. No man was ever called upon for damagesbecause he had attributed grand motives. It might be well forpolitics and literature and art,--and for truth in general, if itwas possible to do so. But a new law of libel must be enacted beforesuch salutary proceedings can take place. Censure on the other handis open to very grave perils. Let the Editor have been ever soconscientious, ever so beneficent,--even ever so true,--let it beever so clear that what he has written has been written on behalfof virtue, and that he has misstated no fact, exaggerated no fault,never for a moment been allured from public to private matters,--andhe may still be in danger of ruin. A very long purse, or else avery high courage is needed for the exposure of such conduct as the"Evening Pulpit" attributed to Mr. Melmotte. The paper took up thisline suddenly. After the second article Mr. Alf sent back to Mr.Miles Grendall, who in the matter was acting as Mr. Melmotte'ssecretary, the ticket of invitation for the dinner, with a note fromMr. Alf stating that circumstances connected with the forthcomingelection for Westminster could not permit him to have the greathonour of dining at Mr. Melmotte's table in the presence of theEmperor of China. Miles Grendall showed the note to the dinnercommittee, and, without consultation with Mr. Melmotte, itwas decided that the ticket should be sent to the Editor of athorough-going Conservative journal. This conduct on the part of the"Evening Pulpit" astonished the world considerably; but the world wasmore astonished when it was declared that Mr. Ferdinand Alf himselfwas going to stand for Westminster on the Liberal interest.
Various suggestions were made. Some said that as Mr. Alf had a largeshare in the newspaper, and as its success was now an establishedfact, he himself intended to retire from the laborious position whichhe filled, and was therefore free to go into Parliament. Others wereof opinion that this was the beginning of a new era in literature,of a new order of things, and that from this time forward editorswould frequently be found in Parliament, if editors were employed ofsufficient influence in the world to find constituencies. Mr. Brounewhispered confidentially to Lady Carbury that the man was a fool forhis pains, and that he was carried away by pride. "Very clever,--anddashing," said Mr. Broune, "but he never had ballast." Lady Carburyshook her head. She did not want to give up Mr. Alf if she could helpit. He had never said a civil word of her in his paper;--but stillshe had an idea that it was well to be on good terms with so great apower. She entertained a mysterious awe for Mr. Alf,--much in excessof any similar feeling excited by Mr. Broune, in regard to whomher awe had been much diminished since he had made her an offer ofmarriage. Her sympathies as to the election of course were with Mr.Melmotte. She believed in him thoroughly. She still thought that hisnod might be the means of making Felix,--or if not his nod, then hismoney without the nod.
"I suppose he is very rich," she said, speaking to Mr. Brounerespecting Mr. Alf.
"I dare say he has put by something. But this election will cost himL10,000;--and if he goes on as he is doing now, he had better allowanother L10,000 for action for libel. They've already declared thatthey will indict the paper."
"Do you believe about the Austrian Insurance Company?" This was amatter as to which Mr. Melmotte was supposed to have retired fromParis not with clean hands.
"I don't believe the 'Evening Pulpit' can prove it,--and I'm surethat they can't attempt to prove it without an expense of three orfour thousand pounds. That's a game in which nobody wins but thelawyers. I wonder at Alf. I should have thought that he would haveknown how to get all said that he wanted to have said without runningwith his head into the lion's mouth. He has been so clever up tothis! God knows he has been bitter enough, but he has always sailedwithin the wind."
Mr. Alf had a powerful committee. By this time an animus in regard tothe election had been created strong enough to bring out the men onboth sides, and to produce heat, when otherwise there might only havebeen a warmth or possibly frigidity. The Whig Marquises and the WhigBarons came forward, and with them the liberal professional men,and the tradesmen who had found that party to answer best, and thedemocratical mechanics. If Melmotte's money did not, at last, utterlydemoralise the lower class of voters, there would still be a goodfight. And there was a strong hope that, under the ballot, Melmotte'smoney might be taken without a corresponding effect upon the voting.It was found upon trial that Mr. Alf was a good speaker. And thoughhe still conducted the "Evening Pulpit," he made time for addressingmeetings of the constituency almost daily. And in his speeches henever spared Melmotte. No one, he said, had a greater reverence formercantile grandeur than himself. But let them take care that thegrandeur was grand. How great would be the disgrace to such a boroughas that of Westminster if it should find that it had been taken inby a false spirit of speculation and that it had surrendered itselfto gambling when it had thought to do honour to honest commerce.This, connected as of course it was, with the articles in the paper,was regarded as very open speaking. And it had its effect. Some menbegan to say that Melmotte had not been known long enough to deserveconfidence in his riches, and the Lord Mayor was already beginning tothink that it might be wise to escape the dinner by some excuse.
Melmotte's committee was also very grand. If Alf was supported byMarquises and Barons, he was supported by Dukes and Earls. But hisspeaking in public did not of itself inspire much confidence. Hehad very little to say when he attempted to explain the politicalprinciples on which he intended to act. After a little he confinedhimself to remarks on the personal attacks made on him by the otherside, and even in doing that was reiterative rather than diffusive.Let them prove it. He defied them to prove it. Englishmen were toogreat, too generous, too honest, too noble,--the men of Westminsterespecially were a great deal too high-minded to pay any attention tosuch charges as these till they were proved. Then he began again. Letthem prove it. Such accusations as these were mere lies till theywere proved. He did not say much himself in public as to actionsfor libel,--but assurances were made on his behalf to the electors,especially by Lord Alfred Grendall and his son, that as soon as theelection was over all speakers and writers would be indicted forlibel, who should be declared by proper legal advice to have madethemselves liable to such action. The "Evening Pulpit" and Mr. Alfwould of course be the first victims.
The dinner was fixed for Monday, July the 8th. The election for theborough was to be held on Tuesday the 9th. It was generally thoughtthat the proximity of the two days had been arranged with the view ofenhancing Melmotte's expected triumph. But such in truth was not thecase. It had been an accident, and an accident that was distressingto some of the Melmottites. There was much to be done about thedinner,--which could not be omitted; and much also as to theelection,--which was imperative. The two Grendalls, father and son,found themselves to be so driven that the world seemed for them to beturned topsey-turvey. The elder had in old days been accustomed toelectioneering in the interest of his own family, and had declaredhimself willing to make himself useful on behalf of Mr. Melmotte. Buthe found Westminster to be almost too much for him. He was calledhere and sent there, till he was very near rebellion. "If this goeson much longer I shall cut it," he said to his son.
"Think of me, governor," said the son. "I have to be in the city fouror five times a week."
"You've a regular salary."
"Come, governor; you've done pretty well for that. What's my salaryto the shares you've had? The thing is;--will it last?"
"How last?"
"Th
ere are a good many who say that Melmotte will burst up."
"I don't believe it," said Lord Alfred. "They don't know what they'retalking about. There are too many in the same boat to let him burstup. It would be the bursting up of half London. But I shall tell himafter this that he must make it easier. He wants to know who's tohave every ticket for the dinner, and there's nobody to tell himexcept me. And I've got to arrange all the places, and nobody to helpme except that fellow from the Herald's office. I don't know aboutpeople's rank. Which ought to come first: a director of the bank ora fellow who writes books?" Miles suggested that the fellow from theHerald's office would know all about that, and that his father neednot trouble himself with petty details.
"And you shall come to us for three days,--after it's over," saidLady Monogram to Miss Longestaffe; a proposition to which MissLongestaffe acceded, willingly indeed, but not by any means asthough a favour had been conferred upon her. Now the reason why LadyMonogram had changed her mind as to inviting her old friend, and thusthrew open her hospitality for three whole days to the poor younglady who had disgraced herself by staying with the Melmottes, was asfollows. Miss Longestaffe had the disposal of two evening tickets forMadame Melmotte's grand reception; and so greatly had the Melmottesrisen in general appreciation, that Lady Monogram had found that shewas bound, on behalf of her own position in society, to be presenton that occasion. It would not do that her name should not be in theprinted list of the guests. Therefore she had made a serviceablebargain with her old friend Miss Longestaffe. She was to have her twotickets for the reception, and Miss Longestaffe was to be receivedfor three days as a guest by Lady Monogram. It had also been concededthat at any rate on one of these nights Lady Monogram should takeMiss Longestaffe out with her, and that she should herself receivecompany on another. There was perhaps something slightly painful atthe commencement of the negotiation; but such feelings soon fadeaway, and Lady Monogram was quite a woman of the world.