as his audience, is to be his judge. Lord Vargrave's utter incapacity to
comprehend political morality, his contempt for all the objects of social
benevolence, frequently led him into the avowal of doctrines, which, if
they did not startle the men of the world whom he addressed (smoothed
away, as such doctrines were, by speciousness of manner and delivery),
created deep disgust in those even of his own politics who read their
naked exposition in the daily papers. Never did Lord Vargrave utter one
of those generous sentiments which, no matter whether propounded by
Radical or Tory, sink deep into the heart of the people, and do lasting
service to the cause they adorn. But no man defended an abuse, however
glaring, with a more vigorous championship, or hurled defiance upon a
popular demand with a more courageous scorn. In some times, when the
anti-popular principle is strong; such a leader may be useful; but at the
moment of which we treat he was a most equivocal auxiliary. A
considerable proportion of the ministers, headed by the premier himself,
a man of wise views and unimpeachable honour, had learned to view Lord
Vargrave with dislike and distrust. They might have sought to get rid of
him; but he was not one whom slight mortifications could induce to retire
of his own accord, nor was the sarcastic and bold debater a person whose
resentment and opposition could be despised. Lord Vargrave, moreover,
had secured a party of his own,--a party more formidable than himself.
He went largely into society; he was the special favourite of the female
diplomats, whose voices at that time were powerful suffrages, and with
whom, by a thousand links of gallantry and intrigue, the agreeable and
courteous minister formed a close alliance. All that _salons_ could do
for him was done. Added to this, he was personally liked by his royal
master; and the Court gave him their golden opinions; while the poorer,
the corrupter, and the more bigoted portion of the ministry regarded him
with avowed admiration.