CHAPTER FIVE.
"LOVE LIES BLEEDING."
What is my guilt that makes me so with thee? Have I not languished prostrate at thy feet? Have I not lived whole days upon thy sight? Have I not seen thee where thou hast not been; And, mad with the idea, clasp'd the wind, And doated upon nothing?
Although Mr Mawley had expressed such a disparaging opinion anent mycapabilities for official work, I do not think I made such aninefficient clerk on the whole.
I did not mulct my country of any portion of the hours appointed for mylabour, pleading Charles Lamb's humorous excuse, that, if I _did_ comelate, I certainly made up for it "by going away early!" On thecontrary, my attendance was so uniformly regular, that it attracted thenotice of the chief of my room, getting me a word of commendation.
Praise from such a quarter was praise indeed, as the individual inquestion was one of the old order of clerks, stiff, prosaic and crabbedto a degree--who looked upon all the new race of young men that nowentered the service as so many sons of Belial. "Their ways" were not"his ways;" and, their free and easy manners, and absence of all thatwholesome awe of chiefs which had been customary in his day, proved,beyond doubt, that official life in general, and that of _his_department in particular, was decidedly "going to the devil!"
He lived in the office, I verily believe; coming there at some unearthlyhour in the morning, and leaving long after every one else had soughttheir homes.
The messengers had been interrogated on the subject of his arrival, butthey protested that they always found him installed at his usual desk,no matter how early they might set about clearing out the room inanticipation of the ordinary routine of the day; while, as for the timeof his departure, nobody could give any reliable information respectingthat!
The hall-porter, who remained in charge of the establishment whenbusiness was over, might, perhaps, have afforded us some data on whichwe could have decided the mooted point, but he was a moody, taciturnpersonage, who had never been known to utter a word to living man--consequently, it was of no use appealing to him.
One of the fellows reported, indeed, that once having to return to theoffice at midnight, in search of his latch-key which he had forgotten inhis office-coat, and without which he was unable to obtain admittance tohis lodgings, he found old "Smudge,"--as we somewhat irreverently termedthe chief,--who was particularly neat and nice in his handwriting--working away; minuting and docketing papers, just as if it had beenearly in the afternoon. It was his firm persuasion, _he_ said, thatSmudge never went away at all, but remained in the office altogether,sleeping in a waste basket, his head pillowed on the debris of destroyedcorrespondence!
Of course we did not really believe in the latter part of thisstatement; still, it was quite feasible, I'm sure, now that I think itover.
His habit every morning was to draw a great black line, punctually asthe clock chimed half-past ten, across the middle of the attendance--book, which stood on a bracket near the door, handy for everybody comingin; the clerks having to sign it on entering, inserting the exact timeat which they put in an appearance. Our normal hour was supposed to beten, the half-hour being only so much grace allowed for dilatory personsdelayed by matters "over which they had no control"--although few theywere who did not take advantage of it.
Why the old gentleman drew this line, none could tell; for, no badresults ensued to sinners who signed after its limitation--many of thosewho were invariably late, being subsequently duly promoted in theirturn, as vacancies occurred.
But, the practice appeared to give Smudge great satisfaction. He,probably, took some malicious pleasure in scoring up the delinquenciesof his staff, mentally consigning the underliners, most likely, toirretrievable ruin, both in this world and the next!
I, as I've already said, was an exception to this rule.
I must explain, however, that my good hours did not proceed from anyintense wish on my part to ingratiate myself with the chief. They wererather owing to the fact, that the omnibus I specially patronised,generally arrived in town from the remote shades of Saint Canon's by teno'clock sharp--a result usually obtained through hard driving, and onaccount of an "opposition" conveyance being on the road.
Smudge, nevertheless, took the deed for the will; and he complimented meaccordingly, much to my surprise.
"Ha! Mr Lorton," he growled to me one morning, on my coming in just asthe hour was striking. "You'll be picking up the worm soon, you come souncommonly early! Never once down below the line--good sign! good sign!But, it won't last, it won't last,"--he added thinking he had spokentoo graciously.--"All of you begin well and end badly; and _you_ won'tbe any better than the rest!"
He then hid himself behind a foolscap folio, to signify that theaudience was ended.
It was quite an event his saying so much to me, his conversation beingmostly confined to finding fault with us in the briefest monosyllablesof the most pungent and forcible character; for, he seldom uttered aword, save with reference to some document that might be submitted forhis approval and signature.
During the entire time that I remained under his watchful leadership, henever spoke to me, but once again in this gracious manner. Indeed, whenI mentioned the circumstance to all the fellows, they expressedconsiderable doubt as to his having spoken to me so at all, ascribing myaccount of our interview to the richness of my imagination; but, hereally did say what I have related. I am rather proud of the fact thannot.
My comrades as a body were a nice, gentlemanly set; and we got on verywell together.
As a matter of course, we had one especial individual who was commonlyregarded as the butt of the room--a good-natured, heavy man, with a dullface and a duller comprehension; but, he seemed proud and pleased alwayswhen singled out as a mark for our chaff:--he took it as an honour, Ithink, ascribing our fun to delicate attention.
We had also a "swell," who was as irreproachable in his dress asHorner:--I remember, the whole office felt flattered when his name onceappeared in the list of those attending the Queen's Drawing-room; while,his fashionable doings, as recorded in the columns of the _MorningPost_, caused our room to be envied by every other division of "thebranch."--Young and old, "swell" and butt not excepted--we consorted onthe friendliest of footings. We were knit together in the closest bondsof brotherhood; and were in the habit of looking down upon all otherdepartments as not to be compared to that, of which our room, was, inour opinion, the acknowledged head.
Generally speaking, men belonging to the public service are moregregarious, and stick to one another in a greater degree, imitating theclanship of Scotchmen and Jews, than those occupied in any other walk inlife.
Professionals move, as a rule, in petty cliques; city people find theirinterests clash too much for them to associate in such harmony as dothose engaged in Government offices. They may be said, certainly, toform a clique, and to have strong party interests also; but then, theirclique is so large a one that the prominent features of narrow-mindedness and utter selfishness, which distinguish smaller coteries,are lost in its more extended circle; while, its interests are self-centred, its members having nothing to fear or expect from the outsidepublic.
And yet, with all that good fellowship and staunch fidelity, as aclass--when personal pique, and what I might call "promotion jealousy,"does not interfere to mar the warm sympathies that exist between theunits of this officially happy family--Government clerks are a verydiscontented set of men, grumbling from morning until night at theirposition, their prospects, their future.
Really, when I first joined, I thought them all so many Lady Dashers indisguise. I could hardly believe that such cheerful fellows should beat heart so morbidly exacerbated!
They do not, it is true, grumble at those of their own standing in theservice; nor do they try to out-manoeuvre their fellows of the samedepartment; but, third-class men are jealous of those in the second-class, second-class men of lucky "seniors," hankering after their shoes;and all, alike envious, both individually and collectiv
ely, of otherbranches, unite in one compact band of martyrs against the encroachmentsand tyrannies of higher officialdom--considering chiefs, secretaries ofstate, and such like birds of ill-omen, as virtual enemies andoppressors, with whom they are bound to prosecute a perpetual guerillawarfare:--a warfare in which, alas! they are sadly over-matched.
Smith does not mind in the least--that is, as far as human nature can bemagnanimous--that Robinson, of his own office, should be preferredbefore him, and raised to a superior grade in advance of his legitimateturn. He may, undoubtedly, believe it to bear the semblance of "hardlines" to himself personally, that he was not chosen instead; still, heputs it all down to Robinson's wonderful luck, and his own miserablefatality, bearing his successful comrade no ill-will in consequence.
But, let Jones, of another branch, be placed in the vacancy;--just hearwhat Smith says then!
Words would fail to express his sentiments in the matter.
Jones, he considers, is a nincompoop, who has fed all his life on "flap-doodle," which, as you may be aware, Lieutenant O'Brien told PeterSimple was the usual diet of fools. Jones is a man _totally_ devoid ofall moral principle. How "the authorities" could ever have selectedsuch a person to fill so responsible a post is more than he, Smith, orany one else, can understand! And, besides, how unfair it was, to takea clerk from another and different office--and one essentially of alower character, Smith believes--and put him "over our heads in thisway," as he says, when rehearsing his wrongs and those of his officialbrethren before a choice audience of the same--from which the chief isthe only absentee:--it was, simply disgraceful!
Smith thinks he "will certainly resign after this," and--he doesn't!
He goes on plodding round in his Government mill, grumbling and workingstill to the end of his active life, when superannuation or a starvationallowance comes, to ease his cares in one way and increase them inanother! And, to do him scant justice, he really _does_ work manfully,at a lesser rate of pay, and with fewer incentives to exertion throughhopes of advancement, than any other representative person under thesun--I do not care to what class or clique he may belong!
He is the miserable hireling of an ungrateful country, from his cradleto his grave, in fact.
It is all very well for people unacquainted with the machinery of theseoffices to talk about the idleness of Government clerks generally; andjoke at the threadbare subject of "her Majesty's hard bargains."
No doubt, some places are sinecures, and that a larger number of clerksare employed in many offices than there is work for them to do; but, wemust not go altogether to the foot of the ladder to remedy this state ofthings!
Why do not such ardent reformers as Mr Childers, and men of his stamp,cut down their own salaries first, before they set about pruning thoseof poor ill-paid subordinates?
I can tell them, for their private satisfaction, that, if they did so,the onlooking public would have a much stronger belief in the honesty oftheir reformatory zeal than it at present possesses!
It is not the "little men" that swell the civil list, as the vicar toldme before I saw it for myself, but, the "big wigs."
These are the ones who fatten on the estimates, the root of the evillying concealed under the snugly-cushioned fauteuils of cabinetministers and their pampered placeholders and hunters--not, beneath thestraight-backed horsehair chairs of miserable clerks. It is unmanlythus for giants to gird at pigmies!
I would advise all the clerks in the various Government offices to forma "union," in order to obtain redress for their wrongs; and to "strike,"if needs be--you know, that strikes are all the rage now!
You demur to my argument? It would be a conspiracy, you say?
Dear me! You are quite wrong, I assure you. A conspiracy is only aconspiracy so long as it is unsuccessful. When it is triumphant, it isknown no longer by that term!
Then, it is styled a "Revolution," or a "Restoration," or a "Grand PartyTriumph," as the case may be. Just in the same way, is a man a"traitor," or a "patriot," who tries to serve his country, according tohis lights, as he is either defeated in his purpose, or victorious.Besides, when men thus work together in a body, their words and deeds,although identically the same, are regarded in a different light to thewords and deeds of mere individuals. In the one case they may be grandand glorious; in the other, they are stigmatised, perhaps, asinsignificant, and, indeed, often criminal.
Witness, how a robber on a large scale, such as a privateersmanconfiscating the goods of an innocent merchant, or a chancellor of theexchequer putting his hand into a poor taxpayer's pocket, is held up inhistory to the admiration and honour of posterity; while, a petty thief,who may steal the watch of Dives, or a starving wretch, who snatches aloaf out of a baker's shop, gets sent to the treadmill--_their_ actionsbeing only chronicled in the police news of the day.
Or, again, look at your colossal murderer, like the Kaiser "Thanks toProvidence," when he prosecuted the invasion of a neighbouring countrythe other day, in defiance of his kingly word--as published in a publicproclamation, bearing his signature.
He sacrificed thousands of lives in furtherance of his own ambition;but, he is a "conqueror," bless you! A hero, to whom men bow the kneeand cry, "Ave, Caesar!"--Your puny villain, on the other hand, who onlycuts one unfortunate throat, is hung!
"Circumstances alter cases," runs the saying:--it should more properlybe, the light in which we view them--_that_ makes all the difference, mydear sir, or madam!
Let the Government clerks strike, I say. "Frappez et frappez fort," asthe Little Corporal used to express it; that is, if they are unable toget their grievances adjusted without some such extreme measure--ofwhich there does not seem to be much likelihood at present, consideringthe reformatory tendencies of Jacks in office.
A strike, however, would soon bring the latter to reason, and showwhether these subordinates were worth keeping on, or not!
You don't believe it?
Ah! just wait and see!
Fancy, the consternation at Carlton House Terrace, the dismay in DowningStreet, some fine morning, when no clerks were forthcoming!
Imagine the tons of correspondence awaiting answers, the acres ofaccounts to be audited, the minutes that would _not_ be made, the"submissions" that could _not_ go forward, the files that should havebeen docketed, and initialled, and stowed away uselessly till doomsday;and, that must, instead, remain untouched, uncared for!
The Secretary of State might want valuable statistics, to answer someobstinate inquiring member in the House that very day, but, nobody couldprepare them--to his default; and so, the inquiring member might make acabinet question of it, and defeat the Government!
The general commanding at the autumn manoeuvres might, perhaps, be inurgent need of footwarmers for the regiments under his charge; but, hecouldn't get them, as no permanent clerk would be at the War Office tocountersign his order!
The channel fleet might all need refitting; but, none of them would beable to go into dock, as the Admiralty gentlemen--who only knew whentheir bottoms were last scraped--were not at their posts!
In fact, every department--the Colonies, the Foreign Office, and eachone else, would be topsy turvey; because, only the high sinecurists, whonever did anything but sign their names to documents prepared by "thoseuseless Government clerks," would be present to conduct the business ofthe country; and, _they_ would not have the remotest idea how to set towork, you know!
The "Control Department" might, certainly be called on for help in theemergency; and then, we would probably have some more "queer things ofthe service" for a short time.
But, it couldn't last. The whole official machinery would come to adead stop.
You would then see the ardent reformers at their wits' ends; while, thehonourable person who keeps the purse-strings of the ministry would bedown on his marrow bones--entreating the ill-used and recalcitrantseceders to return to their employment, when "all would be forgiven;"and begging them, at the same time, to accept the increase to theirsalarie
s which they had demanded, as a token of his sincere regard andesteem!
Before I became one of the staff of the Obstructor General's Office, Ihad not given the position of Government clerks a thought, excepting tolook down upon them generally--as I have previously remarked, and as,indeed, most people are in the habit of doing who are unconnected withthe service.
Now, however, that I was one of them, I was filled with the mostthorough corps feeling. Their ills were my ills; their hopes my hopes;and, such thoughts as I have noted were continually passing through mymind.
This is the case with most that are similarly employed.
I like men to believe in the special calling or profession theyfollow:--I do not think much of those who run down their trade.--Thelatter are usually bad workmen, you'll find.
If I were a boot-black, to-morrow, I would, I am certain, lean to thedelusion that the polishing of pedal integuments was the noblest spherein life!
Indeed, I have known many more extraordinary conversions than mine.
I've seen one of the most brutal and bloodthirsty of warriors settledown into an earnest preacher of the gospel. I have heard a prize-fighter lecture on the atomic theory; and, I am acquainted with aviolent radical demagogue "of the deepest dye," who, by means of a niceberth and a snug salary, has been turned into the most conservative ofcounty magnates--looking upon all his former proceedings with horror,and a virtuous amazement that he could ever have been so led astray!
So, you need not be surprised at my thus changing my sentiments. Inaddition, I was new to the service; and, "new brooms sweep clean," weare told--although, the special work of the room in which I was placedat the office was not by any means of an interesting character. Infact, it was rather the reverse, you will say, when I tell you what itconsisted in.
Some eight of us were engaged from ten to four o'clock every day, sixmortal hours, in checking a lot of old accounts, and bills, that hadbeen paid and settled years before.
There was no benefit to be derived by the country, even if we _did_detect an error of calculation, which was rarely the case; for, themoney would not be refunded, be never-so-many minutes made of theincident--the parties concerned being commonly scattered all over theglobe, and, if appealed to, would probably reply that they knew nothingnow about the circumstance, and cared less, most likely.
And yet, there were we, day after day, made to go over and over theseold vouchers, comparing them with ledgers and store-books, and all sortsof references, for no earthly good whatever!
It is thus, that much time is wasted and unrequired labour paid for inthe public service, when, by judiciously doing away with unnecessarywork, the number of clerks might be economised, and their labourconsequently better remunerated.
You can't get men to become interested in unprofitable work.
My comrades in the Obstructor General's Office were jolly and cheerfulenough, and old Smudge not too exacting and fault-finding. After alittle experience, I managed to arrive at the knowledge of the exactamount of work which would satisfy him. If one did more than this, hethought you much too pushing a fellow to belong to his slow, steady-going branch; and if less, why, you were an idle person, not worth yoursalt.
But, the whole thing was very tedious and dry to me. I could, getthrough Smudge's quantum of accounts easily in half my time:--the restof my hours hung heavily on my hands.
One can't read the _Times_ all day, you know. The very obligation, too,to be tied down to a certain routine and chained to a desk, galled me.I could have accomplished ten times the amount of labour I did, if I hadbeen allowed to do it at my own convenience, and not forced to the tento four regime.
I was always thinking of Min, also, and fretting at her absence--for,she did not come back to Saint Canon's for months after I got myappointment.
My whole thoughts were filled with her image. The difficulty of myposition with regard to her and her mother likewise troubled me.
So, taking all these points into consideration, my office life was not ahappy one,--though, if matters had been arranged more comfortably forme, touching the future, I would have cheerfully put up with moretemporary annoyances than I actually suffered, slaving on indefinitelyunder Smudge's rule.
As it was, I couldn't.
I used to dream of Min all day, imagining what she might be doing downin the country.
I fancied all sorts of things about her.
I thought that she would forget me and like some one else better,knowing how joyfully Mrs Clyde would encourage any wooer whose presencemight tend to make her turn from me.
The worst of it was, too, that I had no one to sympathise with me. Icould not, exactly, go round asking people to "pity the sorrows of adisappointed lover!"
As Lamartine sings in his "Tear of Consolation":--
"Qu'importe a ces hommes mes freres Le coeur brise d'un malheureux? Trop au-dessus de mes miseres, Mon infortune est si loin d'eux!"
How could I implore sympathy? Would you have given me yours?
I would be almost ashamed to tell how I was in the habit of "mooningaway my time," thinking of Min--when, the first novelty of the officehaving worn off, I found my duties so wearisome and easily got through,that I had nothing to keep me from thinking!
I used to idle sadly.
I often wasted hours, in dreamily composing intricate monograms on myblotting-paper, in which Min's name was twisted into all sorts offlowery characters, which were intermingled so as to be nearlyincomprehensible to any one unacquainted with my secret.
My fellow-clerks got an inkling of it, however.
They used to ask me, who "M" was; and, when I got savage, and told themto mind their own business, they would "chaff" me, inquiring whether"the unknown fair" was obdurately "cruel," or no!
Little Miss Pimpernell tried to cheer me up--telling me to "hope on,hope ever;" and, to stick steadily to my work, for, that Min would becertain to come back soon, when all would be well. But, I could notcontent myself.
I got pale and thin, worrying myself to death.--Even Lady Dasher saw thechange in me, hinting one day to the vicar, in my hearing, that she waspositive I was in a decline, or suffering from heart-disease, and thatoffice-work was really too hard for me.
And when Min _did_ come back, things were but little brighter for me.
The first opportunity I had of speaking alone to her, I asked her if Imight still call her by her Christian name. She said, "certainly," witha little tremor in her dear voice and a warm blush which almost temptedme to say more. But, I remembered having pledged my word to Mrs Clyde,and did not urge my suit, then or thereafter, by words or looks--as faras I could help the latter.
We did not meet often now; and, perhaps, it was as well that we did not,for our position was awkward for both of us.
When we did, however, it seemed very hard for me to speak to her in coldconventional terms--when, my heart was overflowing with love towardsher; and, this made me appear constrained; while, she showed a shyavoidance of me, which, only natural as it was, pained me--although Iwas certain, all the time, that she had not changed towards me in theleast.
Really, if it had not been for the kind contrivances of dear little MissPimpernell, I don't think we would have met for a long, long time, atall.
Now, that my days were fully occupied at "the office," you know, I couldnot meet her out, or see her at the window; and, in spite of hermother's gracious intimation that I might call occasionally, I did notcare about going there in the evening to be stared into formality underher icy eye.
When Christmastide came round again, too, there were no more of thehappy days that had occurred on its previous anniversary.
Although I had obtained special leave from my chief, through working upan enormous number of old accounts beforehand, and thus gaining his goodwill, it was entirely thrown away:--Min did not present herself at theroom of the evergreens once!
Mrs Clyde had checkmated me, again, there.
Had it not been for Miss Pimpernell's pleadin
gs, I think I would nowhave gone against her advice, and brought matters to an issue by anotherproposal before the year was out.
My better judgment, however, restrained me from this, when I reflectedover all the circumstances of the case in more reasoning moments.
I saw that it was best for me to wait until the full probationary periodwhich my old friend had prescribed should elapse. I waited accordingly;but, my heart was daily torn with a despair and longing, that very muchaltered me from the merry Frank Lorton of former times.
Could I hope?
Would she only wait for me, too?
Should my trust and my devotion be finally rewarded?
Miss Pimpernell said "yes," and Min, when I saw her, _looked_ it; but,my heart frequently said "no"--and, I was miserable in consequence!
It is a truism, that, when one loves truly, one is never satisfied.
She and I, Volume 2 Page 5