o," he insisted, with much good nature, "I want to be
your guide. You must promise that you will not go there without me."
"Very well, then," I assured him, "I shall wait until you take me."
'The Dean and myself did not, as it happened, meet again at that period,
nor were we, by the decree of Providence, ever to meet. Thus, I shall not
see the earliest home of the House of Commons, as it has been restored,
for I promised.'
There swam in Sir George's recollection, a little story touching the
evolution of the body politic, during his own time. It was like Maui of
Maori legend, and Arthur 'by wild Dundagil on the Cornish sea,' in that
he scarce knew whence it came. He inclined to link it, a whiff of airy
gossip, with two of the most strenous middle Victorians, but would hold
no names certain.
'At all events,' he said, 'the Cabinet was formerly a smaller body than
it now is, and less formal in its proceedings. The members would drop in,
with the newspapers in their hands, and take a chair, here or there, as
the case might be. A quite large Cabinet being created, the Prime
Minister suggested, "Gentlemen, had we not better sit round the table?"
The suggestion met with approval, and the Premier made to take his place
at the head of the table. Thereupon, a colleague caught up a chair, put
it beside that of the Premier, and sat down with the remark, "There is no
such thing as a President of the Cabinet."'
For a good while, Sir George Grey spoke of himself as being in England,
only to bid England farewell. Some fine morning he would pack his trunks,
and sail south to those who knew him best. Every step in New Zealand was
a greeting; in London a mile was bare. Once he did pack his trunks, but
the fine morning never arrived.
When rallied about that, Sir George defended himself, 'I suppose I want
to see what I can do, as one of your most eminent statesmen did, in his
youth. He went to a small island, then connected with the family
property, and studied laboriously for a whole winter. He desired to
establish what was in him, what exertion he was likely to be equal to, in
the world's affairs. Then, lest trouble should ever befall him, he,
another time, went into lodgings to test how little it was really
possible to live upon. I don't recall at what figure the experiment
worked out, but it was a ridiculously small one.'
A spirit, kindred in its attitude to the seriousness of life, animated
Sir George Grey, even as he spoke.
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