Phineas Finn / The Irish Member

inn Takes

spoke well, who could speak to no effect as far as their own worldly prospects were concerned! He had already known many members of Parliament to whom no outward respect or sign of honour was ever given by any one; and it seemed to him, as he thought over it, that Irish members of Parliament were generally treated with more indifference than any others. There were O'B–––– and O'C–––– and O'D––––, for whom no one cared a straw, who could hardly get men to dine with them at the club, and yet they were genuine members of Parliament. Why should he ever be better than O'B––––, or O'C––––, or O'D––––? And in what way should he begin to be better? He had an idea of the fashion after which it would be his duty to strive that he might excel those gentlemen. He did not give any of them credit for much earne

ast fifteen years, and was yet well-nigh as young a man as any in it. And he was a man altogether different from the O'B––––s, O'C––––s, and O'D––––s. Laurence Fitzgibbon could always get the ear of the House if he chose to speak, and his friends declared that he might have been high up in office long since if he would have taken the trouble to work. He was a welcome guest at the houses of the very best people,

very little about all this, and went so far as to declare that those things were accidents which fell out sometimes one way and sometimes another, and were altogether independent of any merit or demerit on the part of the candidate himself. And it was marvellous and almost painful to Phineas that his friend Fitzgibbon should accept the fact of his membership with so little of congratulation,-with absolutely no blowing of trumpets whatever. Had he been elected a member of the municipal corporati

t," said Fitzgibbon, "we a

ot quite understanding the m

tty well what they'll do. There's a doubt about Tipperary, of course, but whichever gets in of the seven who are standi

ng can justify them in tryin

and fingers to remain in." Dubby was the ordinary name by which, among friends and foes, Mr. Daubeny was known: Mr. Daubeny, who at that time was the leader of the Conservative part

ts nothing done by

. Give a government a real strong majority, as the Tories used to have half a century since, and as a matter of cour

ntry to have no

ountry. And the Ministers work too, if they've got anything to manage. There is plenty of work done;-but of work in Parliam

the p

and that an obedient House of Commons should implicitly obey that leader in authorising all changes proposed by him;-but according to Barrington Erle, such changes should be numerous and of great importance, and would, if duly passed into law at his lord's behest, gradually produce such a Whig Utopia in England as has never yet been seen on the face of the earth. Now, according to Mr. Fitzgibbon, the present Utopia would be good enough,-if only he

o go back and try his hand again at the last moment, merely in obedience to some antiquated prejudice. Look at poor Jack Bond,-the best friend I ever had in the world. He was wrecked upon that rock for ever. He spent every sh

t became

ere. I know he never came up again. Now, I call that a confounded shame. I suppo

bon see him through the difficulties of the oath-taking? But Laurence Fitzgibbon made very little of the difficulty. "Oh;-you just come down, and there'll be a rush of fell

to get some one to accompany him; He felt that he should lack courage to go down to Westminster Hall alone, and explain to the policeman and door-keepers that he was the man who had just been elected member for Lo

ll right, Fi

idn't have much doubt ab

It's just one of those flukes that occur once in a dozen election

n't think any one could have got in,"

, and Finn was congratulated by other men. But it seemed to him that the congratulations of his friends were not hearty. He spoke to some men, of whom he thought that he knew they would have given their eyes to be in Parliament;-and yet they spoke of his succe

it, I suppose,

the middle-aged friend, "but I confess that I sho

as constantly telling himself that he, hardly yet twenty-five, without a shilling of his own, had achieved an entrance into that assembly which by the consent of all men is the greatest in the world, and which many of the rich magnates of the country had in vain spent heaps of treasure in their endeavours to open to their own footsteps. He tried hard to realise what he had gained, but the dust and the noise and the crowds and the want of something august to the eye were almost too strong for him. He managed, however, to take the oath early among those who took it, and heard the Queen's speech

ood motherly soul, whose husband was a journeyman law-stationer, and who kept a very decent house in Great Marlborough Street. Here Phineas had lodged

ber of Parliame

same as ever? Well, I never thought t

itude of the step which her lodger had