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suggested that he had never father's death; . . . "we have inspired a pamphlet in his life, lost the refuge of private disthat he knew nothing about tress, the balm of the afflicted the act of undermining a col- heart, the shelter of the miserleague. He cajoled, he impor- able against the fury of private tuned, he plotted with Lord calamity; the arts, the graces, Middlesex or with any other the anguish, the misfortunes who would listen to him, he of society have lost their pleaded his own unworthiness. patron and their remedy. I "Every one had their faults," have lost my protector, my he said; "I might be vain, I companion, my friend that might be high, and yet mean loved me, that condescended very well, and be made very to hear, to communicate, to useful." There speaks the true share in all the pleasures and Dodington, who, in what he pains of the human heart, ealled "transacting business," where the social affections and was indefatigable. He was emotions of the mind only ready to spend days, even presided, without regard to weeks, in talk, and if he did the infinite disproportion of not convince his interlocutors, our rank and condition." he must surely have bored With much more to the them. How long the Prince's same purport. And having patience would have endured disburdened his soul, he the garrulity of his humble looked about him for a fresh servitor we do not know, for patron, a fresh occasion of the argument was abruptly intrigue. His task was not brought to a sudden end by easy. So far he had never his death.
been faithful to the trust Thus, in a moment, Doding- reposed in him. He had inton's vision of peerages, ribbons, sulted Walpole, he had inand secretaryships of state sulted Pelham, he had sided vanished into thin air, and he with the Prince against his was left friendless and alone. father. At the very moment That he might serve the of the Prince's death he had Prince, he had angered the been busy with a project which King and deserted Pelham. taxed to the full even his Yet he was neither dismayed ingenuity. This was nothing nor abashed. He composed a less than a union between the funeral oration upon his independent Whigs and the master and himself, which Tories. The new Party, Horace Walpole called Bubb sketched by Dodington's sande tristibus, and which he cer- guine mind, was to "renounce tainly did not intend should all tincture of Jacobitism, and bloom and wither in obscurity. offer short but constitutional "We have lost the delight and revolutional principles." and ornament of the age he Only a true politician could lived in," thus he wrote of invent such principles as those the Prince, with whom he had principles which were at been eagerly anticipating his once "constitutional and rev
olutional"; and Dodington must have smiled with an inward satisfaction 88 he wrote the words. He thought, moreover, that "there were good grounds to hope for a happy issue." And then the Prince died. And what could Dodington do but exclaim: "Father of meroy, Thy hand, that wounds, alone can save!" It will be seen that his hope -to unite the incompatibles, to abolish principles at a stroke— is the hope which has inspired all politicians who have lived and plotted since the time of Dodington. It inspires the eminent statesmen who rule us to-day. If only constitutional meant the same thing as revolutional, there would be no more strife, and the best and wisest of Prime Ministers, wheever he be, might be tenant for life of his high office. But Dodington's plot of a new party failed, as such plots always fail, and he had done nothing more than make a new crop of enemies. Neither his spirit nor his resource deserted him. He swore eternal fidelity to the widowed Princess, and went straight off to Pelham, offering him his allegiance, and his interest, and his boroughs on certain terms. The position W88 simple enough. "As I was now," wrote Dodington, "entirely free from engagements, I was sincerely desirous of Mr Pelham's favour and friendship, if he would accept of my friendship and attachment; if, then, he would accept of my services, he might, under proper conditions, command my interest,
and in that case nobody would be more welcome to me at Weymouth than Mr Ellis."
Cynicism cannot go further than this. Of principles, opinions, patriotic aims, Dodington knew nothing. Pelham had a place or two to sell, and Dodington had a handful of boroughs-the eurrency which could purchase them. And the old comedy went on again, transferred to another stage. Both parties were willing to do business, and a bargain might easily have been struck, if only the King had not been obdurate. He was not a politician in the true sense. He had been affronted by Dodington, and he was very angry. He would not forgive the man who had encouraged his son in rebellion. When Dedington appeared at Court the King asked Pelham what brought him thither. Pelham replied, "to show his duty, and that he wished to live in his favour.' "No," said the King, "there has been too much of that already. However, the conversations continued without any result for some three years. Dodington was truculent and obsequious by turns. When the Princess taxed him with disloyalty to her, he said that "in politicks we must act in some way or other, and we cannot cease action for a time and then take it up again." That such a man should use the word "action" at all is absurd, and yet why should he underrate his services, when he would "undertake to chuse five members for the present Ministry without putting them to a
shilling expense or desiring at any by-election. The them to make a single tide- candidates still flatter the waiter"? Pelham escaped venal wretches on the platfrom Dodington's importunity form at the top of their voice, by death alone, and left him and then in the intimacy of and his grievances and his colleagues paint them in their threats to his brother, the true colours. As for DodingDuke of Newcastle. The ton, he liked neither the Duke and Dodington were per- wretches nor their low habits, fectly well matched. Each He gladly tolerated them bewanted to get as much as he cause, with an energy which in could out of the other. The another cause might have been Duke knew how handsome admirable, he was determined Dodington's proceedings had to make some figure in life. been, and Dodington blandly "I earnestly hoped it might be reminded the Duke that "there under your protection," he told were few who could give the Newcastle, "but if that could King six members for nothing." not be, I must make some For nothing, said he! Yet figure; what it would be, I for nothing he would stir could not determine yet; I neither hand nor foot. Every must look round a little, and "action" which he performed consult my friende, but some had its price, and mounted in figure I was resolved to make." value like the Sibylline books. To us it seems remarkable that He was not one to forget these two plotters could meet "marketable ware." When, to day after day and bargain and serve the King, he took part in chaffer, without laughing in the Bridgewater election, the one another's face. And yet sum of money he had spent they were particularly grave there rose in the course of a about it, and I do not suppose few months from £2000 to that Dodington smiled, even £3400, and finally reached the when the Duke of Newcastle respectable figure of £4000. kissed him!
And then, as if to increase the value of his sacrifice, he had the impudence to deplore the corruption of the voters. He solemnly regrets the days which were "spent in the infamous and disagreeable compliance with the low habits of venal wretches." Thus the politician always deplores the manners and morals of the electors, whom his own greed and ounning have corrupted. The hypocrisy is an uglier sin than the greed, and you may match them both to-day
Dodington did not out the figure he wished to cut, and Newcastle so far failed to appease the placeman that he was presently charged with "weakness, meanness, cowardice, and baseness.” But at last the King, upon whose death Dodington had speculated for a quarter of a century, died, and Dodington was raised by his successor to the peerage as Lord Melcombe. His childish vanity expressed itself with childish exuberance, and the honour, enjoyed for too brief
a space, inspired him, no doubt, to compose the best copy of verses that ever he wrote. After all, the policy of unenlightened egoism which he had pursued for sixty years had served him well enough, and as he looked back on his career, he saw and put into words what had always been his true aim
"Love thy country, wish it well,
Not with too intense a care, 'Tis enough that when it fell
Thou its ruin didst not share."
We can almost forgive Dodington all his follies, all his vices for those few words,
"not with too intense a care," in which are summed up, with an exquisite touch of humour, the selfishness of his kind. In brief, he was a politician, not a patriot nor a leader of a forlorn hope. And they err who say that we must forgive him, because he should not be tried by the standard of our time. The standard of his day is still the standard of ours. Whether we like it or not, we are governed by Dodingtons, whose care of their country is not "too intense," and who agree with their master that "it is all for quarter-day."
VOL. CCVII.-NO. MCCLIII.
THE ANCHORITE'S STORY.
BY C. A. KINCAID, C.V.O.
IT was the tenth of the bright half of Kartik, or in the phraseology of Europe, somewhere towards the end of October. I had gone down to Pandharpur, the great seat of Krishna-worship in the Maratha country, that I might see the pilgrims come from all parts of the Deccan-indeed from all parts of India-to prostrate themselves before the image of the god Krishna. There was still a good deal of water in the Bhima river, that runs in a wide sweep past Pandharpur, and the ferrymen were doing a roaring business, plying their ferryboats full of pilgrims, armed with yellow flags, across the river. The red horse-heads which adorn every Pandharpur ferry-boat bobbed up and down as they breasted the current, and the men and women on board laughed as the waves splashed them and wetted their clothes.
Suddenly I saw a begging bowl thrust under my nose, and I heard a deep gruff voice say in a whine, that was yet half a threat
"Alms! alms! In the name of God, give me alms !"
I turned and saw a man in the saffron garb of the anchorite with shaven head and a rosary of tulsi beads
round his neck. He was a big burly man, and his bold, roguish eyes were at variance with his saored calling. the hope of a story, I threw a silver coin into his bowl and said "Salaam Maharaj! Are you a Brahman of Pandharpur?" At the same time I drew a cigar-case from my pocket and offered him a cigar. The anchorite's lips curved in a hesitating smile, which grew broader as he said, “Ah! the Sahib talks Marathi. He understands." Then, after 8 pause, he said, "I am not a Brahman, Sahib; I am 8 Gurav1 from the temple at Atibaleshwar."
"You are &
Gurav from Atibaleshwar," I repeated. "I know the temple there well. But what brings you here, Bhatji?" "It is a long story, Sahib; but if you will sit down under yonder tree, where I have my staff and black buckskin, it may interest you to hear it." The anchorite led me to a tree some way down the stream. There he had built himself a olay stove, and there lay his cooking pots and bedding. The breeze from the river was cool, the shade was thick, and there was probably not a cosier or more secluded nook in all Pandharpur. At the same time it commanded a fine view
1 Guravs are a Sudra caste who sweep the temples and keep them clean. They take no part in the worship of the god. That is for the Brahmans.