Westminster corridors
'Tis impossible to escape the rumours and whispers around the Town that, the people's decision on the Great Entanglement having been safely arrived at, Master T. Benn will thereafter be moved from his present Overlordship of our Industries to some other exalted Task in the Administration. For the Great Chameleon would appear to the World in New Colours, viz, as a Moderate, and to achieve this End 'tis essential to Woo our Speculators and Merchants and pretend that no Vital Change is to be effected in the Arrangement of Fa&ory Affairs, of which the Deportation of Master Benn would be a Symbol. Nor has Master Wilson failed to perceive that Master Benn's disappearance would produce in addition vast political dividends. For, the Tories and Master Rees-Mogg having ranted and raved without cease that Master Benn was an Impediment to Sound Administration, a Portrait of Bloody Revolution, a Slayer of Babes (and drank their Blood for Pleasure), and a Guarantee to the Fanaticks that all Wealth would shortly be seized and thereafter enjoyed collectively by Artisans and their Wives (or, should this desirable State of Affairs have required a Violent Upheaval for its Consumation, by their Widows only), then Master Wilson imagines, not without good cause, that he might thus maintain that Master Benn's appointment to our Embassy in the land of the Aethiops was Clear Proof of His Administration's Addictitin to the Principles of Sound Government, its Support for a Return to the Gold Standard, its Devotion to Virtue and Morality as Enunciated by Master R. Jenkins et al, and its Determination to Restore Honest Money at cost only to Artilans without Work and similar Riff-Raff. And the Great Chameleon imagines further that he Can Hear the Applause of the Mob (albeit a genteel Mob) in his Ears and See the Chagrin of the Tories as they Lament the Absence of a Useful Bogey and Enjoy the Gratitude of Master Prentice, even as unobserved he continues to Seize the Property of Honest Men and Grant it instead to Rogues, and to himself he whispers "Dishing the Tories, and besides that, Dishing the Jenkinsites too," and he is happy.
Yet one Doubt clouds his Contentment. For, whither is Master Benn to be Despatched, being a Notable who will not be Ready to serve in the Lower Depths of the Administration, as for instance an Under-Secretary of Pensions, and yet is too Potent a Statesman to be permitted to depart from the Ranks of Placemen altogether and aim Darts from the Rear, especially during this Time of Perturbation. So, Master Wilson first purposes to appoint Master Benn to the Solemn Deputy of Supervising the Lives of all Citizens from the Cradle to Grave in matter such as Pensions, their Health, the Erection of Hospitals, the Care of the Sick and the Persecution of those who would make their own Arrangements in these Private Concerns. But Mistress Castle at present occupies that Proud Outpost and is Reluctant to Move, so passionate is her Love for the Sick and her Hatred of the Rich. And, Master Wilson, being an old Ally of Mistress Castle in many Previous Battles, is in Two Minds about whether or not to Despatch her into the House of Peers.
So, he ponders about the Prospect of Moving Master Senn instead to the Charge of Education, where Lunatic Theories and Fanatick Stratagems are already in the Ascendant under the Tutelage of Master Prentice, and where any Artisan Statesman, however Moderate be his Utterances elsewhere, can be trusted wholly to Cripple the Ambition and Abilities of our Children, wherefore Master Benn could do no especial Harm. Where, then, would Master Prentice be despatched? For, he too can in no wise be trusted to return to the Backbenches, from which he would assuredly aim Darts at Master Wilson's Back, and this with the Connivance of Master Rees-Mogg, Master R. Jenkins, and the Tories. Master Wilson, however, has devised a Cunning Solution to his Dilemma. For, he would ask, with many a Crocodile Tear, that Master Prentice subdue all Ambition and Love of Life in his Breast and go out and Govern Ulster, where Fanatick bands of Popish and Protestant Persuasion continue yet their sectarian Bloodshed, it being a Common Saying among Statesmen that Ireland is the Graveyard of English Reputations. To those who are not Crushed by Mere Sayings, however, Ireland was also the political apprenticeship of Wellington, Peel, Melbourne and Balfour. Nor did it ruin the Careers of Master J. Callaghan and Master W. Whitelaw.
Tom Puzzle
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