In the House of Commons, too, and in the bureaucracy, he had no
inconsiderable strength; for Lumley never contracted the habits of
personal abruptness and discourtesy common to men in power who wish to
keep applicants aloof. He was bland and conciliating to all men of
ranks; his intellect and self-complacency raised him far above the petty
jealousies that great men feel for rising men. Did any tyro earn the
smallest distinction in parliament, no man sought his acquaintance so
eagerly as Lord Vargrave; no man complimented, encouraged, "brought on"
the new aspirants of his party with so hearty a good will.

Such a minister could not fail of having devoted followers among the
able, the ambitious, and the vain. It must also be confessed that Lord
Vargrave neglected no baser and less justifiable means to cement his
power by placing it on the sure rock of self-interest. No jobbing was
too gross for him. He was shamefully corrupt in the disposition of his
patronage; and no rebuffs, no taunts from his official brethren, could
restrain him from urging the claims of any of his creatures upon the
public purse. His followers regarded this charitable selfishness as the
stanchness and zeal of friendship; and the ambition of hundreds was wound
up in the ambition of the unprincipled minister.

But besides the notoriety of his public corruption, Lord Vargrave was
secretly suspected by some of personal dishonesty,--suspected of selling
his State information to stock-jobbers, of having pecuniary interests in
some of the claims he urged with so obstinate a pertinacity. And though
there was not the smallest evidence of such utter abandonment of honour,
though it was probably but a calumnious whisper, yet the mere suspicion
of such practices served to sharpen the aversion of his enemies, and
justify the disgust of his rivals.