SUNDAY evening was stormy, and some enthusiasm was required
to make one face its perils for the sake of society. Nevertheless, a
few intimates made their appearance as usual at Mrs. Lee's. The
faithful Popoff was there, and Miss Dare also ran in to pass an
hour with her dear Sybil; but as she passed the whole evening in a
corner with Popoff. she must have been disappointed in her object.
Carrington came, and Baron Jacobi. Schneidekoupon and his sister
dined with Mrs. Lee, and remained after dinner, while Sybil and
Julia Schneidekoupon compared conclusions about Washington
society. The happy idea also occurred to Mr. Gore that, inasmuch
as Mrs. Lee's house was but a step from his hotel, he might as well
take the chance of amusement there as the certainty of solitude in
his rooms. Finally, Senator Ratcliffe duly made his appearance,
and, having established himself with a cup of tea by Madeleine's
side, was soon left to enjoy a quiet talk with her, the rest of the
party by common consent occupying themselves with each other.
Under cover of the murmur of conversation in the room, Mr.
Ratcliffe quickiy became confidential.
"I came to suggest that, if you want to hear an interesting debate,
you should come up to the Senate to-morrow. I am told that
Garrard, of Louisiana, means to attack my last speech, and I shall
probably in that case have to answer him. With you for a critic I
shall speak better."
"Am I such an amiable critic?" asked Madeleine.
"I never heard that amiable critics were the best," said he; "justice
is the soul of good criticism, and it is only justice that I ask and
expect from you."
"What good does this speaking do?" inquired she. "Are you any
nearer the end of your difficulties by means of your speeches?"
"I hardly know yet. Just now we are in dead water; but this can't
last long.
In fact, I am not afraid to tell you, though of course you will not
repeat it to any human being, that we have taken measures to force
an issue.
Certain gentlemen, myself among the rest, have written letters
meant for the President's eye, though not addressed directly to him,
and intended to draw out an expression of some sort that will show
us what to expect."
"Oh!" laughed Madeleine, "I knew about that a week ago."
"About what?"
"About your letter to Sam Grimes, of North Bend."
"What have you heard about my letter to Sam Grimes, of North
Bend?"
ejaculated Ratcliffe, a little abruptly.
"Oh, you do not know how admirably I have organised my secret
service bureau," said she. "Representative Cutter cross-questioned
one of the Senate pages, and obliged him to confess that he had
received from you a letter to be posted, which letter was addressed
to Mr. Grimes, of North Bend."
"And, of course, he told this to French, and French told you," said
Ratcliffe; "I see. If I had known this I would not have let French
off so gently last night, for I prefer to tell you my own story
without his embellishments. But it was my fault. I should not have
trusted a page.
Nothing is a secret here long. But one thing that Mr. Cutter did not
find out was that several other gentlemen wrote letters at the same
time, for the same purpose. Your friend, Mr. Clinton, wrote; Krebs
wrote; and one or two members."
"I suppose I must not ask what you said?"
"You may. We agreed that it was best to be very mild and
conciliatory, and to urge the President only to give us some
indication of his intentions, in order that we might not run counter
to them. I drew a strong picture of the effect of the present
situation on the party, and hinted that I had no personal wishes to
gratify."
"And what do you think will be the result?"
"I think we shall somehow manage to straighten things out," said
Ratcliffe.
"The difficulty is only that the new President has little experience,
and is suspicious. He thinks we shall intrigue to tie his hands, and
he means to tie ours in advance. I don't know him personally, but
those who do, and who are fair judges, say that, though rather
narrow and obstinate, he is honest enough, and will come round. I
have no doubt I could settle it all with him in an hour's talk, but it
is out of the question for me to go to him unless I am asked, and to
ask me to come would be itself a settlement."
"What, then, is the danger you fear?"
"That he will offend all the important party leaders in order to
conciliate unimportant ones, perhaps sentimental ones, like your
friend French; that he will make foolish appointments without
taking advice. By the way, have you seen French to-day?"
"No," replied Madeleine; "I think he must be sore at your treatment
of him last evening. You were very rude to him."
"Not a bit," said Ratcliffe; "these reformers need it. His attack on
me was meant for a challenge. I saw it in his manner.
"But is reform really so impossible as you describe it? Is it quite
hopeless?"
"Reform such as he wants is utterly hopeless, and not even
desirable."
Mrs. Lee, with much earnestness of manner, still pressed her
question:
"Surely something can be done to check corruption. Are we for
ever to be at the mercy of thieves and ruffians? Is a respectable
government impossible in a democracy?"
Her warmth attracted Jacobi's attention, and he spoke across the
room. "What is that you say, Mrs. Lee? What is it about
corruption?"
All the gentlemen began to listen and gather about them.
"I am asking Senator Ratcliffe," said she, "what is to become of us
if corruption is allowed to go unchecked."
"And may I venture to ask permission to hear Mr. Ratcliffe's
reply?" asked the baron.
"My reply," said Ratcliffe, "is that no representative government
can long be much better or much worse than the society it
represents. Purify society and you purify the government. But try
to purify the government artificially and you only aggravate
failure."
"A very statesmanlike reply," said Baron Jacobi, with a formal
bow, but his tone had a shade of mockery. Carrington, who had
listened with a darkening face, suddenly turned to the baron and
asked him what conclusion he drew from the reply.
"Ah!" exclaimed the baron, with his wickedest leer, "what for is
my conclusion good? You Americans believe yourselves to be
excepted from the operation of general laws. You care not for
experience. I have lived seventy-five years, and all that time in the
midst of corruption. I am corrupt myself, only I do have courage to
proclaim it, and you others have it not. Rome, Paris, Vienna,
Petersburg, London, all are corrupt; only Washington is pure!
Well, I declare to you that in all my experience I have found no
society which has had elements of corruption like the United
States. The children in the street are corrupt, and know how to
cheat me.
The cities are all corrupt, and also the towns and the counties and
the States' legislatures and the judges. Everywhere men betray
trusts both public and private, steal money, run away with public
funds. Only in the Senate men take no money. And you gentlemen
in the Senate very well declare that your great United States,
which is the head of the civilized world, can never learn anything
from the example of corrupt Europe. You are right--quite right!
The great United States needs not an example. I do much regret
that I have not yet one hundred years to live. If I could then come
back to this city, I should find myself very content--much more
than now. I am always content where there is much corruption, and
ma parole d'honneur!"
broke out the old man with fire and gesture, "the United States will
then be more corrupt than Rome under Caligula; more corrupt than
the Church under Leo X.; more corrupt than France under the
Regent!"
As the baron closed his little harangue, which he delivered directly
at the senator sitting underneath him, he had the satisfaction to see
that every one was silent and listening with deep attention. He
seemed to enjoy annoying the senator, and he had the satisfaction
of seeing that the senator was visibly annoyed. Ratcliffe looked
sternly at the baron and said, with some curtness, that he saw no
reason to accept such conclusions.
Conversation flagged, and all except the baron were relieved when
Sybil, at Schneidekoupon's request, sat down at the piano to sing
what she called a hymn. So soon as the song was over, Ratcliffe,
who seemed to have been curiously thrown off his balance by
Jacobi's harangue, pleaded urgent duties at his rooms, and retired.
The others soon afterwards went off in a body, leaving only
Carrington and Gore, who had seated himself by Madeleine, and
was at once dragged by her into a discussion of the subject which
perplexed her, and for the moment threw over her mind a net of
irresistible fascination.
"The baron discomfited the senator," said Gore, with a certain
hesitation.
"Why did Ratcliffe let himself be trampled upon in that manner?"
"I wish you would explain why," replied Mrs. Lee; "tell me, Mr.
Gore--you who represent cultivation and literary taste
hereabouts--please tell me what to think about Baron Jacobi's
speech. Who and what is to be believed? Mr.
Ratcliffe seems honest and wise. Is he a corruptionist? He believes
in the people, or says he does. Is he telling the truth or not?"
Gore was too experienced in politics to be caught in such a trap as
this. He evaded the question. "Mr. Ratcliffe has a practical piece of
work to do; his business is to make laws and advise the President;
he does it extremely well. We have no other equally good practical
politician; it is unfair to require him to be a crusader besides."
"No!" interposed Carrington, curtly; "but he need not obstruct
crusades. He need not talk virtue and oppose the punishment of
vice."
"He is a shrewd practical politician," replied Gore, "and he feels
first the weak side of any proposed political tactics."
With a sigh of despair Madeleine went on: "Who, then, is right?
How can we all be right? Half of our wise men declare that the
world is going straight to perdition; the other half that it is fast
becoming perfect. Both cannot be right. There is only one thing in
life," she went on, laughing, "that I must and will have before I die.
I must know whether America is right or wrong. Just now this
question is a very practical one, for I really want to know whether
to believe in Mr. Ratcliffe. If I throw him overboard, everything
must go, for he is only a specimen."
"Why not believe in Mr. Ratcliffe?" said Gore; "I believe in him
myself, and am not afraid to say so."
Carrington, to whom Ratcliffe now began to represent the spirit of
evil, interposed here, and observed that he imagined Mr. Gore had
other guides besides, and steadier ones than Ratcliffe, to believe
in; while Madeleine, with a certain feminine perspicacity, struck at
a much weaker point in Mr.
Gore's armour, and asked point-blank whether he believed also in
what Ratcliffe represented: "Do you yourself think democracy the
best government, and universal suffrage a success?"
Mr. Gore saw himself pinned to the wall, and he turned at bay with
almost the energy of despair:
"These are matters about which I rarely talk in society; they are
like the doctrine of a personal God; of a future life; of revealed
religion; subjects which one naturally reserves for private
reflection. But since you ask for my political creed, you shall have
it. I only condition that it shall be for you alone, never to be
repeated or quoted as mine. I believe in democracy. I accept it. I
will faithfully serve and defend it. I believe in it because it appears
to me the inevitable consequence of what has gone before it.
Democracy asserts the fact that the masses are now raised to a
higher intelligence than formerly. All our civilisation aims at this
mark. We want to do what we can to help it. I myself want to see
the result. I grant it is an experiment, but it is the only direction
society can take that is worth its taking; the only conception of its
duty large enough to satisfy its instincts; the only result that is
worth an effort or a risk. Every other possible step is backward,
and I do not care to repeat the past. I am glad to see society
grapple with issues in which no one can afford to be neutral."
"And supposing your experiment fails," said Mrs. Lee; "suppose
society destroys itself with universal suffrage, corruption, and
communism."
"I wish, Mrs. Lee, you would visit the Observatory with me some
evening, and look at Sirius. Did you ever make the acquaintance of
a fixed star? I believe astronomers reckon about twenty millions of
them in sight, and an infinite possibility of invisible millions, each
one of which is a sun, like ours, and may have satellites like our
planet. Suppose you see one of these fixed stars suddenly increase
in brightness, and are told that a satellite has fallen into it and is
burning up, its career finished, its capacities exhausted? Curious,
is it not; but what does it matter? Just as much as the burning up of
a moth at your candle."
Madeleine shuddered a little. "I cannot get to the height of your
philosophy," said she. "You are wandering among the infinites,
and I am finite."
"Not at all! But I have faith; not perhaps in the old dogmas, but in
the new ones; faith in human nature; faith in science; faith in the
survival of the fittest. Let us be true to our time, Mrs. Lee! If our
age is to be beaten, let us die in the ranks. If it is to be victorious,
let us be first to lead the column. Anyway, let us not be skulkers or
grumblers. There! have I repeated my catechism correctly? You
would have it! Now oblige me by forgetting it. I should lose my
character at home if it got out. Good night!"
Mrs. Lee duly appeared at the Capitol the next day, as she could
not but do after Senator Ratcliffe's pointed request. She went
alone, for Sybil had positively refused to go near the Capitol again,
and Madeleine thought that on the whole this was not an occasion
for enrolling Carrington in her service. But Ratcliffe did not speak.
The debate was unexpectedly postponed.
He joined Mrs. Lee in the gallery, however, sat with her as long as
she would allow, and became still more confidential, telling her
that he had received the expected reply from Grimes, of North
Bend, and that it had enclosed a letter written by the
President-elect to Mr. Grimes in regard to the advances made by
Mr. Ratcliffe and his friends.
"It is not a handsome letter," said he; "indeed, a part of it is
positively insulting. I would like to read you one extract from it,
and hear your opinion as to how it should be treated." Taking the
letter from his pocket, he sought out the passage, and read as
follows: "'I cannot lose sight, too, of the consideration that these
three Senators' (he means Clinton, Krebs, and me) are popularly
considered to be the most influential members of that so-called
senatorial ring, which has acquired such general notoriety. While I
shall always receive their communications with all due respect, I
must continue to exercise complete freedom of action in
consulting other political advisers as well as these, and I must in
all cases make it my first object to follow the wishes of the people,
not always most truly represented by their nominal
representatives.' What say you to that precious piece of
presidential manners?"
"At least I like his courage," said Mrs. Lee.
"Courage is one thing; common sense is another. This letter is a
studied insult. He has knocked me off the track once. He means to
do it again. It is a declaration of war. What ought I to do?"
"Whatever is most for the public good." said Madeleine, gravely.
Ratcliffe looked into her face with such undisguised delight--there
was so little possibility of mistaking or ignoring the expression of
his eyes, that she shrank back with a certain shock. She was not
prepared for so open a demonstration. He hardened his features at
once, and went on:
"But what is most for the public good?"
"That you know better than I," said Madeleine; "only one thing is
clear to me. If you let yourself be ruled by your private feelings,
you will make a greater mistake than he. Now I must go, for I have
visits to make. The next time I come, Mr. Ratcliffe, you must keep
your word better."
When they next met, Ratcliffe read to her a part of his reply to Mr.
Grimes, which ran thus: "It is the lot of every party leader to suffer
from attacks and to commit errors. It is true, as the President says,
that I have been no exception to this law. Believing as I do that
great results can only be accomplished by great parties, I have
uniformly yielded my own personal opinions where they have
failed to obtain general assent. I shall continue to follow this
course, and the President may with perfect confidence count upon
my disinterested support of all party measures, even though I may
not be consulted in originating them."
Mrs. Lee listened attentively, and then said: "Have you never
refused to go with your party?"
"Never!" was Ratcliffe's firm reply.
Madeleine still more thoughtfully inquired again: "Is nothing more
powerful than party allegiance?"
"Nothing, except national allegiance," replied Ratcliffe, still more
firmly.
