Phineas Redux | Page 4

much. Phineas Finn had lost his father as well as his wife, and had
inherited about four thousand pounds. He was not at this time much
over thirty; and it must be acknowledged in regard to him that, since
the day on which he had accepted place and retired from London, his
very soul had sighed for the lost glories of Westminster and Downing
Street.
There are certain modes of life which, if once adopted, make
contentment in any other circumstances almost an impossibility. In old
age a man may retire without repining, though it is often beyond the
power even of the old man to do so; but in youth, with all the faculties
still perfect, with the body still strong, with the hopes still buoyant,
such a change as that which had been made by Phineas Finn was more
than he, or than most men, could bear with equanimity. He had revelled
in the gas-light, and could not lie quiet on a sunny bank. To the palate
accustomed to high cookery, bread and milk is almost painfully insipid.
When Phineas Finn found himself discharging in Dublin the routine
duties of his office,--as to which there was no public comment, no
feeling that such duties were done in the face of the country,--he
became sick at heart and discontented. Like the warhorse out at grass
he remembered the sound of the battle and the noise of trumpets. After
five years spent in the heat and full excitement of London society, life
in Ireland was tame to him, and cold, and dull. He did not analyse the
difference between metropolitan and quasi-metropolitan manners; but
he found that men and women in Dublin were different from those to

whom he had been accustomed in London. He had lived among lords,
and the sons and daughters of lords; and though the official secretaries
and assistant commissioners among whom his lot now threw him were
for the most part clever fellows, fond of society, and perhaps more than
his equals in the kind of conversation which he found to be prevalent,
still they were not the same as the men he had left behind him,--men
alive with the excitement of parliamentary life in London. When in
London he had often told himself that he was sick of it, and that he
would better love some country quiet life. Now Dublin was his Tibur,
and the fickle one found that he could not be happy unless he were
back again at Rome. When, therefore, he received the following letter
from his friend, Barrington Erle, he neighed like the old warhorse, and
already found himself shouting "Ha, ha," among the trumpets.
---- Street, 9th July, 18--.
MY DEAR FINN,
Although you are not now immediately concerned in such trifling
matters you have no doubt heard that we are all to be sent back at once
to our constituents, and that there will be a general election about the
end of September. We are sure that we shall have such a majority as we
never had before; but we are determined to make it as strong as
possible, and to get in all the good men that are to be had. Have you a
mind to try again? After all, there is nothing like it.
Perhaps you may have some Irish seat in your eye for which you would
be safe. To tell the truth we know very little of the Irish seats--not so
much as, I think, we ought to do. But if you are not so lucky I would
suggest Tankerville in Durham. Of course there would be a contest, and
a little money will be wanted; but the money would not be much.
Browborough has sat for the place now for three Parliaments, and
seems to think it all his own. I am told that nothing could be easier than
to turn him out. You will remember the man--a great, hulking, heavy,
speechless fellow, who always used to sit just over Lord Macaw's
shoulder. I have made inquiry, and I am told that he must walk if
anybody would go down who could talk to the colliers every night for a
week or so. It would just be the work for you. Of course, you should

have all the assistance we could give you, and Molescroft would put
you into the hands of an agent who wouldn't spend money for you.
£500 would do it all.
I am very sorry to hear of your great loss, as also was Lady Laura, who,
as you are aware, is still abroad with her father. We have all thought
that the loneliness of your present life might perhaps make you willing
to come back among us. I write instead of Ratler, because I am helping
him in the