at his wife should say that she
believed those things which he knew very well that she did not
believe. But, as Mr. Monk well knew, the subject of the Protestant
Endowments in Ireland was so difficult that it would require almost
more than human wisdom to adjust it. It was one of those matters
which almost seemed to require the interposition of some higher
power,--the coming of some apparently chance event,--to clear away
the evil; as a fire comes, and pestilential alleys are removed; as a
famine comes, and men are driven from want and ignorance and dirt to
seek new homes and new thoughts across the broad waters; as a war
comes, and slavery is banished from the face of the earth. But in
regard to tenant-right, to some arrangement by which a tenant in
Ireland might be at least encouraged to lay out what little capital
he might have in labour or money without being at once called upon to
pay rent for that outlay which was his own, as well as for the land
which was not his own,--Mr. Monk thought that it was possible that if
a man would look hard enough he might perhaps be able to see his way
as to that. He had spoken to two of his colleagues on the subject,
the two men in the Cabinet whom he believed to be the most thoroughly
honest in their ideas as public servants, the Duke and Mr. Gresham.
There was so much to be done;--and then so little was known upon the
subject! "I will endeavour to study it," said Mr. Monk. "If you can
see your way, do;" said Mr. Gresham,--"but of course we cannot bind
ourselves." "I should be glad to see it named in the Queen's speech
at the beginning of the next session," said Mr. Monk. "That is a long
way off as yet," said Mr. Gresham, laughing. "Who will be in then,
and who will be out?" So the matter was disposed of at the time, but
Mr. Monk did not abandon his idea. He rather felt himself the more
bound to cling to it because he received so little encouragement.
What was a seat in the Cabinet to him that he should on that account
omit a duty? He had not taken up politics as a trade. He had sat
far behind the Treasury bench or below the gangway for many a year,
without owing any man a shilling,--and could afford to do so again.

But it was different with Phineas Finn, as Mr. Monk himself
understood;--and, understanding this, he felt himself bound to
caution his young friend. But it may be a question whether his
cautions did not do more harm than good. "I shall be delighted," he
said, "to go o