# Lesbia Newman (1889)/Chapter 36

CHAPTER XXXVI.
At Ruddymere Again.
‘Peace is signed,’ said Lord Humnoddie, as the two long acquainted families, his own and the Dulham party, were at afternoon tea in the great hall at Ruddymere, where they sat by preference. ‘It’s rather peace at any price than peace with honour, but there’s no help for it. The thing took us all by surprise; I had just prepared a Home Rule scheme of my own to pacify Ireland, when the war broke out. I have the rough draft of it in that Japan cabinet.’
‘Indeed! what a pity!’ said Lesbia. ‘Would you mind my seeing it, Lord Humnoddie?’
‘I’ll read you the sketch, if you like,’ he answered, going to the drawer, and bringing out a sheet of manuscript. ‘Here it is, then.
‘Article 1. The Sovereign of England to retain the title of Queen or King of Great Britain and Ireland, but the Irish Government to have no connection with the English Government except through the Sovereign.
‘Article 2. Ireland to be an independent State, but to claim the right of being defended by the Imperial army and navy in the event of war. In return for this claim, Ireland to furnish a certain number of men yearly to recruit the Imperial forces.
‘Article 3. Ireland to be represented in the Imperial ​Parliament at Westminster by five delegates, one from each of the provinces and one from Dublin. These delegates to have the right of speaking and voting upon all questions, equally with English members. England, Wales, and Scotland to be represented in the Irish Parliament by seven delegates—one from London, three from the provinces, two from Scotland, and one from Wales. These delegates to have the right of speaking and voting upon all questions, equally with Irish members.
‘Article 4. Ireland to be free to make her own fiscal arrangements, but to grant the province of Ulster a charter to make a special commercial treaty with England. In the event of the terms of such treaty not meeting the views of the Central Irish Government, custom-houses would be established along the inland frontier of Ulster, or the part of it affected by the treaty.
‘Article 5. All persons visiting or residing in Ireland, to enjoy religious liberty not less than that enjoyed by all persons visiting or residing in England.
‘I thought that would do,’ he added, laying down the manuscript.
‘Do!’ exclaimed Lesbia. ‘I should think so, indeed. Why, if only that measure had been brought forward, I believe Queenstown would never have been fought, and the kingdom would be still intact! Excuse me, Lord Humnoddie, but what on earth induced you to keep it back?’
The Marquis looked at his wife.
‘That was rather my doing, Lesbie,’ she said. ‘I persuaded Hum to keep his Home Rule to himself, at all events until the Irish had had a whipping. I thought such concessions were more than they deserved, and it would have looked like giving in to a threat.’
‘But it is we who have got the whipping, and we have had to give in, not to a threat, but to force,’ replied Lesbia ​very quietly, but with sternness in her voice and face. ‘I must say, Lady Humnoddie, that I should not like to have borne your part in this matter. I should almost feel myself—blood-guilty.’
It was a fault of our heroine’s that when her feelings were stirred about sociology or politics, she was apt to give vent to them, without pausing to consider the weight of the projectile. Lady Humnoddie turned pale and was silent, and though too good-natured to resent what was said to her, she did not quite recover her spirits until the evening, after dinner. Mr Bristley himself was startled by his niece’s observation, but felt its justice too much to remonstrate; he came to the rescue, however, as best he could.
‘The old story, my lord,’ he said, forcing a laugh. ‘It happened to your predecessor, the very first Prime Minister. The woman whom thou gavest me, she gave me of the apple of Discord, and I did eat. It can’t be undone now, any more than then, and it’s no use crying over—to be practical, what do you think of the outlook at present?’
‘Well,’ he replied, ‘the worst of the crisis will soon be over, let us hope. The indemnity is paid, the French army is quitting Ireland, which is handed over to the Americans, and perhaps the clouds of foreign war are passing away for good; but the Revolution is upon us in all its force, and our national idols, one after another, are toppling down and going under. My order is threatened with political and, it may be, social extinction; yours, too, Mr Bristley—’
‘Let it go, Lord Humnoddie, let it go; don’t spare it for my sake. By an Established Church the State is saddled with business wherewith it has no concern, while it is made to neglect things of importance within its rightful province. The days of State patronage and control of religion are numbered: no country will tolerate it much longer. If we sky-pilots cannot keep our heads above ​water without establishment, we had better sink. But what about the external relations of the country?’
‘Well, you know, first we’ve got to pay the piper all round; next we are to hand over Egypt to France, our rights in the Suez Canal being guaranteed, if we choose to insist on them in preference to making a new canal further east. The Yankees will foot it in ould Oireland; and as for the Russian bear, he hugs for good Afghanistan in the east and Asia Minor in the west. Russia, in return, cedes to us a magnificent assortment of promises for the future. But, I fancy, she will soon have her own hands full; since every ruler who ascends the throne under the old regimen, knows that he signs his own death-warrant.’
‘Some beside Russians think that Russia is to be the dominant country of the future, and to absorb Europe,’ remarked his elder daughter.
‘Possibly, Hillie; but she will have to traverse a big revolution first. If we here needed the physic, what does Russia? Anyhow, that question’s not a pressing one. We have made a terrible mess of our affairs at home and abroad, and we must lie on our bed as we have made it, and be thankful it’s no worse.’
‘Who are the people on this revolutionary committee?’ asked the younger girl.
‘There’s the list, Fri. I haven’t the pleasure of knowing any of them, and don’t wish to have.’
‘I'll tell you what, Fri,’ said her sister, winking at her, ‘if the Revolution turns us all adrift, you and I shall have to start as professional beauties.’
‘And in that capacity I hope you will visit Dulham,’ joined in Lesbia, ‘where Uncle Spines and I are going to set up the cult of Baal Peor.’
‘Lesbia, for shame!’ said her mother.
‘Baal Berith will be more to the purpose, Lesbie,’ ​observed her uncle. ‘The Numen of the Covenant, the covenant of Divine Order, will serve us better than the Numen of Debauchery.’
‘Never mind, we'll try them all round,’ said Hilda.
‘Girls, hold your tongues,’ put in the Marchioness. ‘We have it on the apostle’s authority that the tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity. Is not that so, Mr Bristley?’
‘And you have it on my authority that the apostle was a double-distilled donkey, down to the ground,’ retorted the person appealed to. ‘Nevertheless, he spoke truth sometimes for the sake of change, as in the instance you mention.’
‘These be the clergy and the women of the future,’ observed Lord Humnoddie, who had listened with some amusement.
‘It was the man, not the parson, that spoke in me,’ said Mr Bristley. ‘The man considers the world around him; the parson is a guide to the sky.’
‘And it was the woman, not the dollymops, that spoke in me,’ said Hilda.
‘Pray, what is a dollymops?’ asked her father.
‘A dollymops, papa, is a woman who trots out the proprieties,’ explained Hilda.
‘But sits heavily upon them while they trot,’ added Friga.
‘Lesbia,’ said the Marchioness reproachfully, ‘you’ve spoilt my Fri.’
‘Spoil my own god-daughter, Lady Humnoddie! Never.’
‘Your god-daughter! I should say you were a mother of quite the other sort,’ she retorted. ‘The old notion is that god-children are brought up by their sponsors in the fear of the Lord; how say you, Mr Bristley?’
‘I say with you that that’s a very old notion, Lady Humnoddie,’ replied the vicar genially.
‘And I say that Lesbie does bring me up in that fear,’ ​added Friga. ‘My fear about your god, dearest mamma, is that before long he will get—’
A shriek of laughter from the other two girls was loud enough to drown completely the remainder of Lady Friga’s sentence. Probably, what she said was, ‘will get his blessing disregarded.’
Seeing that this was a fresh discomfiture for her hostess, Lesbia said seriously,—
‘Joking apart, Lady Humnoddie, I think that women of the world like you must perceive better than others, that the old notions look like being played out now. When from the Cornish coast I heard the cannon roar at Roche’s Tower all that dreadful day, I seemed to listen to the knell of an epoch which indeed it is high time were dead.’
‘I believe that too, Lesbie,’ said her mother, ‘else why should an event, which at the time was remote, have affected me in that supernatural manner? The first part of my dream has come true.’
‘When the fruit hangs fully ripe,’ said Mr Bristley, in slow and measured accents, ‘any touch will bring it to the ground. Or, as was said of old, where the carcase is, thither will the vultures be gathered. It may be a battle lost in one place or another, at Dorking, at Guildford, at Queenstown—where you will; it may be a visitation of quite another, perhaps a direr, sort; but the teaching of history—notably of that Judaic history with which we are so familiar—goes to show that where national advantages have been abused, and national opportunities thrown away, the catastrophe—whatever form it is to take—is not very far off.’
‘But if the decencies of life are to be upset, and good society ruined,’ said the Marchioness bitterly, ‘I shall give it up and go and live abroad.’
‘I hope you may find there the personal relief you ​expect,’ he returned, ‘but the respite in any case can be only temporary. The revolution, I feel convinced, will spread from these shores, and effect, more or less, every part of Europe. You will everywhere see your chosen society changing around you, and increasing its distance from your sympathies. Far better, would it not be, to take the bull by the horns, and see what you can do to accommodate yourself to the times, and prepare for the future. The period will most likely be short, during which the wealthy and high-born can start with advantage over their competitors in the struggle for those things which make existence worth having. Hitherto, your order—mine too—has been as a caste set apart, nursed and favoured as if it belonged to a better world; and of that class the female portion has been the most petted, and, I must say, spoiled. They have been kept in a glass case, so to speak, treated partly as ornaments, partly as toys, partly as slaves; flattered, sonneted, grimaced at, lied to, regarded with mock homage, but not with sincere reverence; they have been thrown the sugared husks of life’s enjoyments with an elegant bow, but debarred as much as possible from the nutritious inside; they have been overwhelmed with valueless offerings, but denied their rights. As my niece well says, it is time the doom of such an epoch were come; and it is come, I really believe.’
As all kept silence, the vicar turned to his wife.
‘Well, now, Kitty dear, I mustn’t tire the company with any more prosing. May we have our trap round?’
‘Certainly,’ replied Lord Humnoddie, ringing, ‘and come over again soon; old friends should hang together at such a time, whatever their private theories.’