misfortune to them and a failure to himself.
Since this young fellow went out into the world from his New England
home, he had done some things that he would rather his mother should not
know, things maybe that he would shrink from telling Ruth. At a certain
green age young gentlemen are sometimes afraid of being called milksops,
and Philip’s associates had not always been the most select, such as
these historians would have chosen for him, or whom at a later, period he
would have chosen for himself. It seemed inexplicable, for instance,
that his life should have been thrown so much with his college
acquaintance, Henry Brierly.
Yet, this was true of Philip, that in whatever company he had been he had
never been ashamed to stand up for the principles he learned from his
mother, and neither raillery nor looks of wonder turned him from that
daily habit had learned at his mother’s knees.–Even flippant Harry
respected this, and perhaps it was one of the reasons why Harry and all
who knew Philip trusted him implicitly. And yet it must be confessed
that Philip did not convey the impression to the world of a very serious
young man, or of a man who might not rather easily fall into temptation.
One looking for a real hero would have to go elsewhere.
The parting between Laura and her mother was exceedingly painful to both.
It was as if two friends parted on a wide plain, the one to journey
towards the setting and the other towards the rising sun, each
comprehending that every, step henceforth must separate their lives,
wider and wider.
CHAPTER LIX.
When Mr. Noble’s bombshell fell, in Senator Dilworthy’s camp, the
statesman was disconcerted for a moment. For a moment; that was all.
The next moment he was calmly up and doing. From the centre of our
country to its circumference, nothing was talked of but Mr. Noble’s
terrible revelation, and the people were furious. Mind, they were not
furious because bribery was uncommon in our public life, but merely
because here was another case. Perhaps it did not occur to the nation of
good and worthy people that while they continued to sit comfortably at
home and leave the true source of our political power (the “primaries,”)
in the hands of saloon-keepers, dog-fanciers and hod-carriers, they could
go on expecting “another” case of this kind, and even dozens and hundreds
of them, and never be disappointed. However, they may have thought that
to sit at home and grumble would some day right the evil.
Yes, the nation was excited, but Senator Dilworthy was calm–what was
left of him after the explosion of the shell. Calm, and up and doing.
What did he do first? What would you do first, after you had tomahawked
your mother at the breakfast table for putting too much sugar in your
coffee? You would “ask for a suspension of public opinion.” That is
what Senator Dilworthy did. It is the custom. He got the usual amount
of suspension. Far and wide he was called a thief, a briber, a promoter
of steamship subsidies, railway swindles, robberies of the government in
all possible forms and fashions. Newspapers and everybody else called
him a pious hypocrite, a sleek, oily fraud, a reptile who manipulated
temperance movements, prayer meetings, Sunday schools, public charities,
missionary enterprises, all for his private benefit. And as these
charges were backed up by what seemed to be good and sufficient,
evidence, they were believed with national unanimity.
Then Mr. Dilworthy made another move. He moved instantly to Washington
and “demanded an investigation.” Even this could not pass without,
comment. Many papers used language to this effect:
“Senator Dilworthy’s remains have demanded an investigation. This
sounds fine and bold and innocent; but when we reflect that they
demand it at the hands of the Senate of the United States, it simply
becomes matter for derision. One might as well set the gentlemen
detained in the public prisons to trying each other. This
investigation is likely to be like all other Senatorial
investigations–amusing but not useful. Query. Why does the Senate
still stick to this pompous word, ‘Investigation?’ One does not